"There is always something to do. There are hungry people to feed, naked people to clothe, sick people to comfort and make well.
And while I don’t expect you to save the world I do think it’s not asking too much for you to love those with whom you sleep, share the happiness of those whom you call friend, engage those among you who are visionary and remove from your life those who offer you depression, despair and disrespect."

— Nikki Giovanni

Why is it that a middle-aged man named Carlo has managed to destroy in 4 hours what the rest of this country has done in 4 weeks?

I can't wait to get the hell out of here. It's 5:30 AM here (and I've yet to go to sleep, yay!) and I'll be landing in JFK at 2:30 PM in New York. Maybe I'll be home by 5:30 PM EST? So that's... 18 hours til I get home, accounting for the time difference? Shweet.

Since last week I have, among other things that I can't recall at the moment: gone to Assisi, Florence, Venice, Pisa, Padova, Pompeii and Sorrento; seen more art and ruins than one can ever imagine, gotten kicked out of the Uffizi Gallery through no fault of my own, almost gotten sick of churches and historical buildings, gone on a pub crawl and attempted the Path of Illumination, made and lost "friends," stolen a lot of food, missed Rome, missed home,not slept nearly enough, eaten far too much gelato, and taken far too many and yet somehow not enough pictures.

I come home on Thurday; wtf, mate?

We're leaving Rome tomorrow morning at 6:30 to go to Florence and Venice from tomorrow until Sunday, which should be awesome.
Packing my computer in storage til Sunday, so no internet til then, unfortunately, unless I can pick up wi-fi on my ipod. I'm such an internet junkie; it's disgusting.
A presto, Roma!

Friday, 7/10/09
Only had Italian again today, because of another Art History excursion. We went to the Pantheon, which was absolutely beautiful, though smaller than I expected it to be. I want to go there for Mass on Sunday, since it’s a church as well as a monument, as well as go there just to explore all of the art. Then we went to Piazza Navona, which was originally a sports arena. It has the Fountain of the Four Rivers, which has men representing the Rivers Nile, Plate, Ganges, and Danube. On one side is a beautiful church, Agnes in Agony, and I want to go to mass there at some point too; I’ve become some sort of a devout Catholic or something. After we were dismissed, we ate dinner at a very nice restaurant called Tre Scallini, which is apparently famous and has excellent tartufo. We wandered around the Piazza a bit more then headed back towards the Trevi, since no day is complete without a trip there. We found our way behind the Pantheon, and onto the Pantheon-Trevi Path. While we were walking, I heard horns blaring and made everyone follow the sound to the Palazzo di S. Ignacio, where the Banda della Polizia was performing an open-air concert, which, according to a woman in the crowd, only happens once a summer. They were very talented, such that when we left I dragged everyone back since I heard an awesome mallet player. We eventually made our way to the Trevi and hung out there for a bit, then headed back to Piazza Barberini to catch the Metro home. All in all, a good night, one that caught me feeling like a pink crayon.

Sunday, 7/12/09
Had class yesterday, then tried to study a bit in the afternoon. Then last night, we went to a gay bar! It was so amusing. First we went to Colin and Ryan’s to pregame/ have a photo shoot, then to dinner at Gustosando, then to the Metro. We met up with more gay Americans on the Metro, who brought us first to a bar called Coming Out (gay enough for you?) from where we took a taxi to the club, L’Alibi. The music was mostly American, but from about 2 years ago, so that it was all stuff that we knew and loved. Even though it was technically a gay bar, there were plenty of straight guys there, which is clearly a positive. We stayed at the bar until almost 3, then took a cab home and called it a night. We really need to figure out the bus system better, because the cabs were far too expensive to take every time we go out. Still, it was an awesome night, and I feel like I bonded with the group a ton.

This morning, I got up early and went to mass at the Pantheon with Priscilla. It was so cute, much different than the one at St. Peter’s. There were only about twenty people there for church, but there was a crowd of tourists outside waiting to get in and be touristy. Is it weird that I think tourists are funny even though I’m technically a tourist myself? Anyway, my church-appropriate clothing and ability to speak Italian go us past the guards and we were able to go in. I really like listening to mass in Italian, even though I only know the prayers in English. I knew some of the Latin for the psalms, but I felt like an idiot not even being able to say the Our Father. But I’m able to pick up a few of the responses from having listened to them twice, so maybe next week I’ll be a little better.

Monday, 7/13/09
Today we went to the Basilica di San Clemente, which is by the Colesseo. It’s called the Lasagna Church because of all its layers: it’s a twelfth century church built on top of a fourth century church built on top of an Ancient Roman palace/ temple of Mithra. My Art History Prof basically ran away in the middle of the tour she was giving, so we kind of wandered the ruins by ourselves for a bit. I followed the sound of running water to an underground spring and drank from it just because Ancient Romans did so since I’m that much of a dork. I also told my Italian teacher the tragic story of Claude, tried lemon gelato by the Colesseo, and think that I found an ATM that I can withdraw from without ridiculous fees.

Man, am I tired. I keep teasing my poor body with the amount of sleep I'm getting. And I've been constantly drinking soda? Ew, I need to stop. Last day of class before Florence tomorrow!

Italian mosquitoes must be on anabolic steroids or something. You should see the size and color of the one I have on my arm. If I don't come home, it's because I caught some rare form of Italian malaria or West Nile. Or maybe West Tiber, in this case.
Also, I'm starting to get a little homesick/Stonysick.
Time to go read 120 pages of Art History, write another 4 page essay in Italian, see some more famous monuments, and eat pasta for dinner!

Today we went to an audience with the Pope at the Vatican. Arrived at St. Peter’s Square a little before 9AM to find a ridiculous line winding through the square. Side note: The Pope holds audiences with the public every Wednesday morning in Vatican city, which is probably a move that’s more political than anything else, but it makes the people happy. Anyway, the audience was due to start at 10:30, and we got into the Vatican auditorium around that time. It was packed! There had to be about 5000 people there, all vying to be in the presence of His Holiness. Mia, Carol, and I were lucky enough to get seats, though we were separated from the rest of the group in the barely-orderly crowd outside. There were people there from all over the world, all cheering and excited to meet the Pope. The Spanish group next to us even had a chant: “Benedito! Amigo! Espana esta contigo!” I thought this was adorable and even plucked up the courage to ask the man next to me in Spanish if I had the words right, since the Castillian accent made it difficult to understand. The Pope came out, and the crowd went nuts. He addressed us first in Italian, a very long message that was difficult to understand through his German accent and advanced lexicon, but it was something about giving to charity despite our economic difficulties? I’m not sure. Then six Deacons came up and introduced all of the groups that were there, including “From the United States of America, students and faculty from the State University of New York at Stony Brook, Long Island.” They did this for all of the visitors from the French, German, English, Spanish, Polish, and Italian speaking countries, and afterwards the Pope addressed each group in their own language. I wanted to ask the Spaniards next to me if they had as much trouble understanding his Spanish as I did his English and Italian, but I was only able to pick out a few of his words in Spanish so I would assume that the answer would be yes. But still, props to him for being septi-lingual. The whole ordeal was basically a huge Catholic love-fest, and afterwards he blessed the sick and the newlyweds, and then we peaced out.

Got back to the hotel in time for lunch, then finally did some homework before my class at 3, since our classes had been rescheduled for the afternoon. Today in Italian I learned that my professor literally does not speak English, as she didn’t understand me when I tried to explain to her what I’d meant by one of the more awkward phrases in my composition. Oh, here’s a fun fact: since there are only 5 people in the class, she has the time to go over everyone’s compositions with them individually. This would be great, except that she does it during class time, such that everyone can hear her point out every mistake that you’ve made. Awesome, since I’m in a class full of grad students and have barely studied the language for the past year. But she's nice about it, and I suppose it’s so that we can all learn from each other, so we’ll try to stay positive, ok? I almost fell asleep in Art History, so I went to the hotel bar after class to get an espresso (I feel a new addiction coming on, which will be very bad when we get back to the States. But espresso is the tequila of coffee: it gets the job done, so therefore I like it.) Got a decent amount of work done, then went out to dinner with Mia, Carol, and Amanda and came back to finish my essay.

I feel like I’ve been pretty lame since I’ve gotten here, but I haven’t really had the energy nor the inclination to go crazy yet; I’ve been very happy having wine with dinner and walking around Rome. But we’re having a surprise party for one of the girls tomorrow night and going to a pub crawl on Saturday, so this may change.. Also, I never sleep, even though I’m not partying every night. But I think it’s a nice change from school to just chill out and not worry about anything or deal with drama or boys. Merp.

Saturday, 7/4
My first day of class. Happy fourth of July! I went to breakfast around 8, and had my first class at 8:30, ITL 411/508-Advanced Composition and Syntax. Of the five people enrolled in the class, I am the only undergrad. I think that about three words of English were spoken the entire hour and a half long period. Scary stuff. I was rather proud of myself though, because I was able to follow along with almost everything that the Professoressa said, though she went off on tangents that confused me, but more because of the lack of segue than the language barrier. The class might be a bit over my head, but I can’t take anything lower because I’d have taken it already, so I’m putting myself up for the challenge. My second class was ARH 307- History of Renaissance Art. I am so excited for this class, especially because I wasn’t allowed to take the one offered at Stony Brook this spring. We have to go on excursions twice a week to different sites around Rome, but this is more than fine by me because it’s all things that I would want to see anyway, so having my professor explain the symbolism behind the color scheme of what have you would be an added bonus.

Also, THEY FOUND MY LUGGAGE! I suppose it’s really only been a day, but it felt like so much longer than that. I called the airline again this morning before class and they told me that they’d found it and a courier would bring it to the hotel by the evening. Embarrassing language moment number one: I was speaking Italian with the rep on the phone, and he told me this in Italian. I managed to catch a few words, but couldn’t really comprehend, so I had to ask him to repeat it in English. Ugh. Unfortunately, Alitalia had done me the immense favor of zip-tying the zippers together, so I couldn’t get to my clothes. I could get to the front pocket though, so I put on my new dress and my much-missed deodorant and went downstairs, where we met back up with the Profs to go see Proper Rome. Took my first Roman Metro ride and saw some pretty awesome things on his mini-tour: The Spanish Steps, Trevi Fountain, Italian Parliament Building, and a few pillars and fountains that I can’t recall the names of at the moment but have pictures of. I got kicked out of a church because of the straps on my dress,which is really embarrassing. I also got my first gelato, which was fantastically delicious. Later we went out to dinner at a place near the hotel. The food was delicious and cheap and the wait staff didn’t speak much English, so I got to practice Italian more. We got wine with dinner, which made me happy, and then came back around 11:30.

I could see myself living here. I feel so at home here that I feel like it could be New York, with everyone speaking Italian just to humor me. I’m making a list of everything I love about this city and will probably publish it at some point.

Sunday, 7/5
Today we went to mass at St. Peter’s Basiclica in Vatican City. VC is the first thing that I’ve seen in Rome so far that has actually floored me. I literally almost started crying when I walked into St. Peter’s Square. It was incredibly gorgeous, and more massive than one could ever imagine. I basically walked around the place with my jaw on the floor. The Basilica itself was absolutely breathtaking. It had to be three football fields long and three stories high. The mass was one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever witnessed. The structure was in Italian, as was the homily, but the prayers and hymns were in Latin, while the “Lord, hear our prayers” were in Italian, Spanish, English, and German. After the mass I had time to snap a quick picture of La Pieta before heading back out to the square to hear the Pope’s address. I have to say, as much flack as that man gets, he has a gift for languages. He addressed the masses of people gathered in St. Peter’s square in Latin, Italian, Spanish, French, English, German, and Polish. Each group went nuts when their language was being spoken. We also saw a group of Polish bikers that had been biking since 6/19, from Warsaw to Rome. I wished I spoke Polish so that I could have congratulated them.

After mass we went back to the hotel for lunch and then the room to finish up work for tomorrow. I also took a little nap because I was absolutely beat. Minal asked me to get up and go back to Proper Rome with her, and I’m glad I did. We took the Metro back in to Bernini, then went to the Trevi fountain and ate dinner at a restaurant near there called L’archetto before getting back on the Metro to meet the rest of the group on a walking tour of Ancient Rome starting at the Coliseum. We had to switch onto the B line, which is surprisingly older looking than the A. We walked out of the station, and there was the Coliseo, staring us in the face. It was beautiful! I was awed by the sheer size of it. Unfortunately it was closed, so we just walked around it and took a ton of pictures. Then we met the rest of the group and saw that again, the Forum, Etrusian markets, a column that I can’t remember the name of, the Vittorio Emmanuelle monument, city hall, and the church where St. Peter was held prisoner before his execution.

Monday 7/5
Second day of class today. Italian is so much easier, even though I got my grammar corrected like three times. Art History is really cool, and the teacher is a bitch; I love it. She called out three different people for sleeping in class and yelled at them, saying that she didn’t care if they were here or not and that they should go back up to bed rather than sit there so rudely. After class I tried to do some work but clearly failed. Lunch, then out onto the metro towards the Coliseum to go to the Museum on Capitoline Hill and di Risorgimento. Unfortunately, Museums are closed on Monday, so that was a fail. So Minal and I kind of just wandered around Ancient Rome for a few hours, spending a lot of time outside of the Coliseum. We were going to buy a ticket, but you had to buy one for the Coliseum, the Palatine, and the Forum, and we didn’t have time to do all three so we decided to save it for another day. Got some gelato (best thing ever!) and back on the Metro to meet Amanda and Carol at the Fontane di Tritone to go to dinner. They didn’t show up at 6 like we’d planned, so we waited until 6:30 and then went to get dinner with Bree, Osi, Tiffany, Maggie, Cynthia, Priscilla, Mike, Dan, and Joe (I know you don't care about the names;I just want to keep them all straight). We went back to the Trevi Fountain (which I’ve been to almost every day so far) and ate at a restaurant near there, When we got back I skyped my mom for a bit, which was nice because I haven’t talked to her for more than a minute or so since I got here in an effort to save money. It’s possible that I spent more time on the phone with Alitalia trying to find my luggage than talking to both of my parents combined.

I just can’t get over how incredible it is here. I feel so at home, I could see myself living here.

Tuesday 7/7/

Today we went to the Island of Capri! We caught a bus at 6:30 and drove three hours south to Napoli, where we caught a ferry to Capri (pronounced CAH-pree in Italian). Napoli wasn’t as sketchy as I expected it to be, but we were also only at the port. Mia and I got our first espressos, which were surprisingly delicious and not nearly as bitter as I’d expected. The island is the most beautiful place in the world. The sky and water are azure, the sun is bright, and there are all these cute shops and restaurants. We got there and took the ‘Mamma Mia bus’ up the side of the mountain, where the roads were small enough that would have been scared to drive on them in my little Focus, even if they were one-way. However, they were two-way roads with hairpin turns and no guardrails. Awesome. Then we went to the top of Anacapri via ski-lift-style chairs on cable. Very eloquently put, I know. The ride took us up the mountain, and the sights were amazing. We reached the summit after about 15 minutes, and were at the highest point on the Island, about 600 meters up, according to one of the staff members. We were told to allot about 20 minutes for exploring the summit, but we actually spent over an hour up there walking around, taking pictures, and just generally allowing the beauty of the island to take our breath away. It was really, truly amazing. We were so high up that we were actually in the cloud bank, and we could see birds flying beneath us. The boats in the harbor (which was still bright blue, even though it was clearly polluted) looked like airplanes because the sky and the sea blended together so perfectly. Absolutely beautiful. I never wanted to come down.

Eventually we had to leave, and when we reached lower ground, we bought tickets for a two-hour boat tour around the Island, which was also incredibly beautiful. Professor Ziofranco served as our tour guide, and he pointed out things like the Grotte Azzure, Verde, and Bianco, Giorgio Armani’s summer home, Bill Gates’ yacht, and the Gerber Castle. I really wanted to swim to the Grotta Azzure, but it was high tide so we couldn’t. However, the boat did stop for about half an hour in the open water so that we could jump off the side and swim in the Mediterranean! The water was a beautiful shade of blue and the perfect temperature to be refreshing; not too warm, not too cold. It was also really salty, which was probably really good for my skin but burned my eyes like hell. After a while we started to get tired so we headed back in, finished the tour, and returned to port. There we got more gelato (trying every flavor has become my new hobby, apparently) and waited to catch the ferry back to Napoli , where we immediately got on the buses to return to Rome. Tomorrow I get to meet the Pope! I’ll write my essay after lunch since our morning classes were rescheduled for the afternoon due to Papal obligations (I really just wanted to say that I had Papal obligations, that’s all).



Thoughts on Italy: I feel like I’m finally starting to get close with people and that makes me happy. The environment here makes my body happy: my skin is soft and getting tanned, my hair is soft and getting blonder, and we’re all supposedly losing weight, according to Prof. Mignone. The only thing I don’t understand about Italian culture so far is why they don’t believe in putting toilet seats in public bathrooms.

P.S. Sorry for the longest post ever; I promise I'll try to do it more often or condense more or something. And I'm sure my grammar is pitiful, but I'm far too tired to do anymore revising than cutting unnecessary detail out from the Word Doc where I've been writing.

Buona Notte, Amori!

I’m here! I made it across the Pond to La Bella Roma! I cannot believe that I am out of the country, off the east coast, out of the state, off of the Island, and out of my freaking area code. And I get to stay here for an entire month! A. freaking. Mazing.

The flight went pretty well. I was a little nervous, especially because of the unfriendly Italian woman that was seated next to me. We spoke in a mix of Italian and English, but she wasn’t interested in talking to me so much, so I read half of Water for Elephants and stared out the window for the majority of the flight. I was amused by the airline food and the fact that I got to drink wine with my dinner. Most of the announcements were in Italian only, or Italian followed by English spoken with a strong Italian accent, since it was an Alitalia flight. This was a little intimidating as they were spoken very rapidly and were muffled by the loudspeaker. The best parts were the take-off and the coming in over Europe. I haven’t flown in ages, so takeoff for me was “Ohmygod Ohmygod we’re going so fast we’re going much too fast this can’t be safe are we lifting off from the ground? No. Wait, yes…Ladies and Gentleman, Katie LoBiondo has taken flight.” And catching my first glimpses of Europe was worth scrambling under my seat for my camera while worrying about unfriendly Italian lady (who at this point was sleeping with the Alitalia blanket over her head) waking up in order to document it. I also slept for about half an hour. I was both afraid and excited to fly alone, but it turned out I wasn’t; an older woman from one of my freshman year Italian classes was waiting for me in the terminal. She turned out to be a Godsend.

Aside from that, the flight was pretty uneventful. We touched down, and I was giddy from lack of sleep and air pressure and from seeing Italy right in front of my eyes. With any luck, I would be at the hotel, showered and changed into one of my pretty skirts and tank tops, ready to take on Rome within an hour or so. But I, of course, would have no such luck.

In perfect Katie fashion, I spent a good two hours watching the same three bags going around and around the baggage claim carousel, none of which were mine. Blanca, the woman from my class, and I had met up with two other women that would be on our trip, and they thankfully waited for me to search the other baggage claims for luggage coming from New York and eventually file a report with customer service. The clerk at Alitalia spoke only a little English, so I had to sputter out in my rusty Italian what my situation was to her with a little help from Blanca. Finally, the four of us plus another girl that we’d met made our way to Terminal 5, where we would supposedly be meeting a shuttle bus set up by Professor Mignone to bring us to the hotel. We’d already missed the first one because of my MIA luggage, and it was close to an hour to the next one, so we decided to split a cab to the hotel, the Grand Hotel Palazzo Carpegno Domus Mariea (sounds fancy, right?). This was a great idea. The driver was one of the nicest people I’ve ever met. He was young (and married, unfortunately) and named Francesco. When I heard this, I of course started babbling in Italian about how I have a friend from home named Francesco, and since I hadn’t said a word to him yet and the other women were speaking to him in English, he turned his head to face me in the back seat excitedly and drove like that for a bit to talk to me. Very amusing. I told him about my lost luggage and he sympathized and gave me the name of an outlet that I could do some shopping at. I may have forgotten to mention this, but there is a positive side to losing my luggage: I can buy some clothes here, and Alitalia will reimburse me for the cost when I get back to New York. Poor me, I have to go shopping in Rome and get paid back by the airline. Finally, we got to the hotel, where it turns out that my room, of course, was not ready. Figures. Blanca of course told me I could sit in hers until mine was ready.

So here I sit at the conclusion of my first six hours in Rome: locked out of my hotel room, sitting in a room with a middle-aged Spanish woman named Blanca. I have no clothes, no shoes, and no toiletries. Well, that’s a lie; I put a change of clothes in my carry-on. But in theory I have nothing more than the clothes on my back, am running on half an hour’s sleep, and haven’t eaten anything since what my body thinks is one o’clock this morning. But you know what?
I couldn’t be happier.

I haven't left yet, obviously, but I'm going to post in an attempt to start a habit of doing so once I get there.

My attempts to pack have left my room looking like an a-bomb has been detonated.

My lack of travel experience is only just beginning to really dawn on me. Do two-hour long flights to Florida with school count as such? Or is my first real flight going to be 8+ hours, international, and taken alone? Sounds terrifying and liberating at the same time.

This time tomorrow, I'll be...well, not quite on my way to JFK, but almost. This time Friday, I'll be in La Citta Eterna. Shweet.

And...back to my packing frenzy.

I started off my twenties sober, playing Frisbee in the parking lot of the Applebee's on Sunrise Highway with Natalya, Liguori, and Creamer at midnight.

Oh, and laughing. Don't forget laughing.
I started off my twenties laughing.

I think this is a good sign.

"If this isn't nice, then what is?"- God Bless You, Dr. Kevorkian! , Kurt Vonnegut

"We're all just a couple of bad days away from sicko."-Carol, The Amish Project

"I think the word is grace."- Brian Long

Several days and a decent amount of money later, she was in possession of a ticket allowing her to fly from JFK to Fiumicino and, unfortunately, back.
She became giddy with anticipation.
The countdown on her computer reads '37 days until Rome!'
Gah.

...Everyone goes 'round a little empty inside.

http://xkcd.com/584/

What is it about the opposite sex (or the same, for some) that drives us so crazy? Why do we toy with each other's emotions the way that we do? Why do we lie and cheat and keep secrets and sometimes not say anything at all, right when something needs to be said the most? Why can't we just be honest with each other, just say what we think, say what we feel, say what we really mean instead of keeping our feelings thinly veiled behind carefully composed words or silence? Why do we wait and wait and wait until the actions we take or the words we say are too little, too late?

We say that we don't care, that we've moved past it, whatever that particular "it" happens to be. But we never really do. So we express it in the only ways we know how. We text each other for no reason. We find excuses to pass an extra hour together. Girls sit and watch boys play video games and analyze every word they say. Boys call and text and pretend to listen when we speak. We tease, we bicker, we tickle, we laugh. We reciprocate. And yet, somehow, at the end of the day, after the last text message has been sent or the car door's been shut or the last goodnight kiss has been given, we are left with that sad, empty feeling of regret.

At this point, if life were a movie, there would be a turning point of some kind. We'd do an illegal U-turn somewhere. We'd pick up the phone. We'd do an about-face and run towards where we came from, arms and mind and heart open, Coldplay swelling in the background, rain soaking us to the bone. But we don't. We don't. We're so stupid. Instead we turn the lights out, shove the thoughts to the back of our minds and go to sleep. We turn the stereo up and push the gas pedal down a little more. We run away. We run away from the feeling, from the potential for rejection, from the person that will make us or break us in that particular moment. We run away as fast as our feet or our wheels or our thoughts will take us.

What else can we do? What can we do but push on, live our lives, pretend that nothing's bothering us? You've gotta get back on the horse, right? Pick yourself up no matter how many times you fall? In theory, we should be able to ignore that nagging feeling in the back of our brains, get out there and play the Game, no matter what.

I wish it were that easy.