Free food? sign me up

My Tuesday morning did not go quite as well as my Monday morning. Bodies and Burials was on site this morning and we were meeting at a metro stop in Testaccio. I planned on walking, but ran into Sasha, a girl from my class, on the way so I took the bus with her. We chatted on the bus ride, and were surprisingly not accosted by old men. Once we arrived at the metro stop my morning turned sour, I realized I had forgotten my purse, meaning two things: I had no money to buy a metro ticket, and had no key to get back into my apartment. I asked Sasha if she would lend me two euros for my tickets and she kindly obliged. This was my first time on the metro, mostly because you can't get away with not paying, and partly because the metro system is not very effective. It's so difficult to build that the city has stopped trying. Every time they attempt to dig they find artifacts, ruins, all kinds of things that slow the process down by years if not halting it completely. We took the metro to the E.U.R. the 'New Rome' that Mussolini had built to showcase fascist architecture. It never took on, and resulted in an area on the outskirts of the city that looks a lot like a metropolitan area of Florida. Tall office buildings, palm trees, and open multi-laned lend to the Florida feel, and with the exception of the palm trees, are very un-roman. I had been wanting to visit the E.U.R since we discussed in in my tribes of Rome class very early on. It is very difficult to get to, however, if you don't use the metro; so i was quite pleased to learn that we had a class field trip there. We were actually spending the day in a museum, one that studies ancient skeletons. We walked up many flights of stairs to the laboratory and were left with a young woman scientist who showed us how to age and sex skeletons. She also showed us a bunch of neat anomalies in various bones, and even had us try to assemble a skeleton (we were way off, we had the radius as a clavicle). It was a really neat day that delivered on the course descriptions promise of bone handling. After the lecture I had to bust my buns to get back to my apartment in time to talk to Stuart at the beginning of his day. I made it, and then headed off to Italian class, we talked about the low birth rate in Italy and its causes. There are definitely aspects of this culture that I don't understand, especially the value of material objects. Americans are know for materialism, but it certainly doesn't affect our birth rate. One of the many causes is that Italian parents want the best and most expensive things for their children so they can fit in, and they can often only afford this luxury for one child. There are many other reasons that are lowering the birth rate as well, fear of losing freedom, late start, and the churches stance on pregnancy outside of marriage. It was an educational class and it passed quickly. On my walk home I was surprised to see that at the base of the stairs of death a huge tree had fallen across the road. Everyone was standing outside watching the fire department cut it up so it could be hauled away. I took a few pictures and continued on my way. Becca and I had signed up for a cooking lesson with the 'res grads' on campus. We met them just up the street from us and walked about a block to their apartment. Stephen was there as well as several other girls, some of which I knew. We were making spaghetti alla bolognese, which is spaghetti with a red meat sauce. We each took different jobs for the sauce while one of the res grads cooked the meat. No one wanted to chop the onion, so Stephen and I were left doing it. Neither of us had done it before, so it was a learning process. We did a pretty decent job and laughed (and cried) in the process. By the time the sauce had cooked down and the pasta boiled we were all ready to eat, the wine and water on the table hadn't been quite enough of an appetizer. We met a bunch of really nice girls that I had never even seen on campus which is impressive given the size of our school. After the delicious and filling meal everyone was heading down to the pastry shop just below the res grads apartment. Stephen, Becca, and I chose to venture over to the cookies and cream gelato shop and try one more time. We were in luck! it was finally open. When you order gelato in Rome you pick a size and then your flavors, two or three depending on the size, Becca ordered her gelato by saying,"biscotto" (cookies and cream in Italian) upon which the man behind the counter would scoop the biscotto and look at her for the next flavor and she would then say biscotto once again, and the process would repeat. By the time that it was my turn to order the man looked at me and said, "let me guess, biscotto?" We were amused with ourselves. As it was dark our Stephen walked us to our tram stop. We said goodbye as it pulled up, and due to a hug, I missed the tram and Becca didn't. Stephen had given each of us a hug, I went second leaving Becca on the tram and me off. As I banged on the door in shock, I noticed a girl from my class who was traveling alone with a bottle of wine, with a look of horror on her face. She looked more upset over the incident than Becca and I combined. When Becca and I talked later we put together that it was 4/20 pot day. The tram sped away without me on it, and Stephen very graciously offered to wait with me until the next one arrived. I was very glad. Mostly because of the creepy lady standing next to us who was whispering to herself and the rat in her hand. She was frightening. This time I made the tram and luckily scary rat lady did not. Becca was waiting for me at our tram stop and we walked home together with no further incidents.

Gelato Gelato McDonalds

Monday was bit of a rainy day, once again. Class schedules at this university really are a blessing, no class on Mondays until noon is so very nice. Getting to start off the week by sleeping in is how Monday should be everywhere. I had missed my Monday classes last week, and so it had been a full two weeks since I attended my opera class. Class turned out to be great, our papers were handed back to us, and I did considerably better on this one than my last, despite my distractions and lateness. That put me in a great mood, Art Gallery Management was no different, things are coming along quite nicely for our exhibition. We have a space and theme secured, and several artists lined up as well. Plus our professor is asking for money from the school so we don't have to pay for everything out of pocket, which is a huge relief. After class I went back to the apartment ready to relax after my five and a half hours of lecture. Becca and I were not looking forward to cooking for ourselves and we went to McDonalds to hit up the euro menu. This was the second time I had had McDonalds in as many Mondays, and with as many Becca's as well :) After McDonalds we met Stephen at the cookies and cream gelato place, Becca was obsessed. She had tried to stop on the way back from Stephen's on Sunday and like everywhere else in Italy, it was closed. Unluckily this particular shop was closed on Mondays as well, we walked across the street and tried another shop instead. Stephen and I got small cups of rum gelato, and Becca passed, she was quite hung up on the cookies and cream. We decided to try again tomorrow and went home for the night.

Mass and the Market

Sunday Morning I awoke and frantically ironed my clothes as usual, and then walked to mass. I always give myself more time than necessary to make it to mass and end up spending fifteen minutes or so just looking out over the roman skyline, with the mountains looming in the background (on clear mornings). Today was no exception and I visited sat on a bench for awhile before walking the remaining three minutes to the N.A.C. and waiting for Matt. Mass was once again absolutely beautiful, this morning Matt had to help with the mass so I sat with other priests who were nice enough to point out which page we were on throughout the service. The singing was heavenly as always and successfully put me in a wonderful mood. I strolled back through the park afterwards and on my way to the Sunday market I found two Americans leaned over a map. I passed them before I heard them speaking English, but double back to play Becca and I's favorite game. I asked the two what they were looking for, and as it turns out they were looking for the Sunday market. It was there lucky day, I told them they could follow me there as that was my destination as well, but that they were very far away, it was going to be a half an hour walk. They were up for the challenge and we shared stories on the way. I took them to the opening of the market and we parted ways, I had specific shopping in mind, and had no idea what their agenda was. I began my weekly walk through the market as always keeping my eye out for good shoe sales. I noticed that there was an influx of very cute summer dresses and skirts. I eyed some before finally stopping at a stand with an good selection. There were dozens of colors of a one size floral print dress. I picked out a pink dress with red roses for fifteen euros. I moved along pleased with my purchase and eager to try on the dress. I stopped at several shoe vendors, but as usual I either found cute shoes that weren't in my size, or no cute shoes at all. Once I had walked the length of the market I returned to my apartment and immediately tried on my purchase. It fit and I spent the rest of my day in it. Becca had a group project to work on at Stephen's and invited me to accompany her, I chose to stay behind and attempt to catch up on my blogs, with little success.

Yello Cheese!

On Saturday Becca, Stephen and I had planned to attend a day trip put on by the school to Lago Bracciano. The trip didn't leave until eleven or so, so Becca and I slept in and packed lunches for the train ride. We met Stephen on the tramline before walking down the street to the train station, where we met the rest of the students going on the trip. The Grad Students leading the trip insisted we buy tickets even though I never have as I was under the impression that no one ever checks them. As we were waiting in line to buy these tickets I mentioned how I never bothered to buy train tickets. Everyone around me looked at me shocked before each telling stories of having their tickets checked. A few girls had been fined seventy euros for not having a ticket. I couldn't believe it. I quickly calculated in my head the number of times I had personally ridden the train, eleven, and then I thought about all the people I had told not to buy tickets. I could live with myself if I got a ticket, but if Becca, Kelsey, or Jessica and her friends had been ticketed I would have felt awful. I had been, apparently, very lucky. I bought a ticket for our day trip, and sure enough on the train ride they checked it. It was a soothing train ride and after talking with Stephen and Becca for the first half we all split up in different seat/ bench areas and took a quick nap. We woke up in time to take pictures of the castle from afar. Our group leader Mickey, promised they would be great. They were not that great, Becca and I ended up with a lot of pictures of trees, we weren't quick enough to judge the timing of the train. We arrived in Lago Bracciano at the tiny train station, so small that instead of having an underground tunnel system you simply walk across the tracks to get into town. We stopped for a quick photo op over the lake before setting a meeting point and time at the town's piazza. Stephen Becca and I joined with Lindsay, a girl from my opera class that Stephen knew quite well, and a friend of hers whose husband and child were visiting. We aimed for the town's main tourist attraction, the castle. Mickey had warned us that it was only open at very particular and seemingly strange times. She was right, the castle was closed and the sign said it was only open on select sundays and tuesdays for three hours.Strange indeed. The castle was smack dab in the middle of town making it difficult to get pictures of the entire structure. We wandered onward and found a beautiful overlook of the lake. In the meantime Stephen had made friends with the little boy, who was both cute and cumbersome as Becca and I discussed later. We weren't prepared or used to being on a child's time schedule and it was making us restless. We decided to separate and Stephen joined us. We wandered the rest of the town looking for other beautiful parks or photo opportunities. We found no such thing. This town wasn't quite as scenic as the ones we visited with ISA. It had things like grocery stores and houses, and that was it. We didn't even stumble upon any churches in our wanderings. We checked several pastry and gelato stores but ultimately decided there was nothing worthy of our limited funds. We walked down residential streets before finding our way back to the main pizza, probably a half an hour or so before the designated meeting time.We sat in the warm afternoon sun and snacked on cookies that Stephen brought with him, waiting for everyone else. Time passes quickly and we were back at the train station. This train station was so small that it had no attendant, the ticket sales were from a machine. an all Italian machine. that made no change. Becca and I had five euro bills and not enough small change to buy tickets. As we attempted to find an employee to ask for change we met a man who had pockets that were ridiculously full of change. He made change for both of us, and then later for Stephen. As we were waiting for our train Stephen got a call from a few of his friends who were in Paris. This was the weekend of the volcano eruption. His friends were trapped and very worried about how their academics would be affected from missing class. Many professors at the AUR have very strict attendance policies, but with the volcano eruption booking a plane or train within a week was nearly impossible. We later found out that a whole group of our classmates took a taxi from Munich, Germany back to Rome. Stephen passed his phone off to the Grad Students, and we spent the train ride home talking about the volcano, and how it might effect us. Once home Becca and I made burger plans once again with Joey, Berkley, and Stephen. We had some time before meeting, and I needed to shoe shop for my sister so we made a trip down Via del Corso. I love walking down Corso on the weekends because all the street performers are out, tonight however there was more entertainment than we bargained for. There must have been a goth festival of some sort as dark clothed/haired/eyelinered youths swarmed the street. And surprise surprise they scared Becca. I thought this was pretty funny, especially after she shared that all the goth people she knew back home were really nice, but these ones were scary. We made our way to H&M and I took pictures of all the cute shoes that I thought Kelsey might like. I planned to email them to her later so she could give me a better idea of what I should get her. Once our goal was accomplished we headed for Burgers. At this point we were super hungry and ready for a well made burger. We met everyone outside the burger place in Stephen's neighborhood. It was a tiny place, but Becca and I were most excited by the cheddar cheese sitting on the counter. Yellow cheese in general just doesn't exist in Rome. They have lots and lots of mozarrella, swiss, and gouda, which are all great cheeses, but cheddar cheese on a real burger. Our mouths were watering before we even ordered. I got the Bacon Gold, a delicious bacon cheese burger and a cherry coke. I ran me about seven euros, but it was beyond worth it. We chowed down our burgers and laughed and yelled at Joey for not taking us here earlier, and then thanked him for showing it to us. Once we were done eating we headed to the nearest tram stop, and passed a gelato spot on the way. We stopped in and found cookies and cream gelato. Berkeley and Becca both ordered cones of only cookies and cream which amused the Romans behind the counter no end. I had the cookies and cream with a few other flavors. It was very good gelato. With only a few weeks left we had found another gelato shop that needed frequenting. Once back in the apartment I discovered that Deacon Matt had emailed me, and we were set to meet for church in the morning.

T.G.I.Friday

Today brought about a rare early morning for my classless Friday. My bodies and burials class was scheduled for a field trip to the catacombs. I woke up and walked to a bus stop in Testaccio, the meeting point for our class. There wasn't much of a crowd this morning probably a third of the class showed up. Any weekend field trip has poor attendance I imagine, throw in the beautiful weather, and impending end of the semester and it's a miracle anyone came. I was looking forward to visiting the catacombs, they're a notorious attraction, but difficult to get to. Only two buses in the city run down the old dirt road that they're located on. I was happy to have a class trip rather than being left to my own navigational devices. The half hour bus ride was a sleepy one, but once we arrived the yawns were replaced with excitement. The tour was seven euros and we shared with a few tourist couples. No cameras were allowed, the only disappointing part of the tour. The tour guide was almost impossible to hear in the winding tunnels below the earth, but we had studied the catacombs enough in class that I didn't feel like I was missing anything spectacular. I spent most of the time marveling at the honeycomb like structure, thinking that it would indeed be incredibly easy to get lost. We passed hundreds of tunnels and passage ways on our thirty minute tour, certainly not one you would want to fall behind on. We were in the catacombs of St. Sebastian, a soldier for the empire who was secretly christian. When Sebastian's faith was discovered he was tied to a stake and shot full of arrows. Amazingly enough Sebastian survives and is rescued by a good Samaritan. I had previously heard Sebastian's story in my renaissance art history class (he was a favorite subject of the time) In addition to Sebastian's body in the catacombs it is said that in times of peril St. Peter's body would be moved to these catacombs far out of the city and far out of danger. Many believe that the likely hood of his body being identified among the thousands of others and brought back to Vatican is slim. The tour was short and I wished that I could be given a map and a flashlight, and possibly a large male friend so I could explore on my own. Above the catacombs was a chapel filled with beautiful sculptures of St. Sebastian and other religious figures. There was even a Bernini work, a very famous sculptor during the renaissance period. We walked along Via Appia (the old dirt road) for awhile admiring an ancient fortress before waiting and taking the bus back into town. When I arrived back at the apartment Becca was awake and suggested a trip to the beach, I love the ocean and had yet to see the Italian shore, so I was all for it. The beach is only a forty minute train ride away, perfect for an afternoon. Beach plans were shot down by Berkley who dragged her feet long enough that we decided to stay in town instead. Becca and Berkley have been inseparable from their first week in class together, she is a resident student along with Joey whom Becca and I both befriended early in the semester. Becca and Berkley both have class with Stephen, and had also become fast friends. Together, the five of us, Becca, Berkley, Joey, Stephen, and I decided to meet and spend the day in Villa Borghese. We road the mini bus up the crowded streets and planned to visit the Borghese museums which is supposed to have the most prestigious collection for its small size.This was the first time I had walked more that a hundred yards into the park and it was incredible. Acres of well kept lawns, with blooming bushes and trees all surrounding hundreds of fountains. It was incredible, and seen with great company. I hadn't hung out in a group of this size the whole semester, and it was wonderful. Once we arrived at the museum I was first of all, thoroughly lost in the massive park; we also discovered the the museum was sold out of tickets for the day. Instead Stephen lead the way back to a small pond surrounded by benches and open spaces. We sat by the pond and chatted for awhile, and Joey in the meantime became restless. Joey is a New yorker and always on the move. He spotted an Italian family picnicking in the park with a five year old playing soccer. He played soccer with the young boy while the rest of us looked on in amusement. After a while we decided to move one and get gelato. We took a mini bus out of the park again only to realize it wasn't the route we needed. We were now on an extremely crowded tiny bus trying desperately to hold on while the vehicle jerked along the road. We were all laughing so hard from falling over that we attracted the attention of a well traveled American family. We talked to them until the bus took us somewhere familiar, and said our goodbyes when we recognized a quick way to our gelato destination. This time we were headed to Gelato di Roma, the place that was slightly expensive but has the best selection. We made plans to go home for a quick break, Berkley had a skype date with her father, before meeting back up to go to a burger place that Joey knew. After waiting a few hours for Berkley to finish she decided she wasn't in the mood to go out after all, Becca and I were none to pleased, neither of us had had a real genuine hamburger for months, and we were now starving. We re-made plans for the following day and ate out of our meager cupboards instead. All in all it was a wonderful day spent with great friends.

Do you Know Morgan Anderson?

Although I have several events planned for the evening my Thursday morning is completely free. After finally catching up on sleep and taking my time to wake up I coaxed myself into finishing my opera paper. It's technically only day late, but I feel as though it might as well have been a week. It's not my best work and I'm convinced that I'll get a worse grade than my first paper, but it is such a relief to have it finished that I don't even mind. I dress up for my Italian class as I'm going straight to the Abigail Child exhibit afterward. Class is interesting but uneventful as usual, and I'm getting nervous about this exhibition. It's a short walk that includes passing armed guards outside the Irish embassy. The reason I'm nervous is mostly due to the fact that once inside the gated grounds of the academy I don't know where I'm going, and I'm going by myself. My fears turn out to be unnecessary , the gate man is kind and signs point the way to the exhibit. There is a wine and cheese and nut table on the way in. Score. The first film is found footage that the artist has arranged and narrated to form a story. It takes place during WWII and focuses on the viewpoint of a young Jewish girl. (Not like Ann Frank: less hiding) Another shorter film consists of black and white slapstick comedy set to thunderous music. Down a white painted brick hallway are six projections of (modern) roman women and children dressed in togas with olive branches wreathing their heads. The subjects are posing, and the film catches their fidgets and breaks in character. In this hallway I hear a woman talking about moving a few of the films for better flow of the space. It takes me a minute to realize that she is the artist, which I think is very awesome. As I'm realizing this a man approaches her. He looks familiar to me, and I realize that we have studied him in class, he is a very famous contemporary Roman artist. I'm nervous again. I feel as though I have no right to be rubbing elbows with famous artists, and at the same time I know I deserve to at this opening as much as anyone else. I watch the last two videos, one of which very cleverly contrasts a baton twirler practicing in her back yard with an army regiment toting rifles. I walk back to the school for my second engagement of the evening. Tonight is the REMUS opening: the literary journal that I submitted art to was having an opening event. Copies of the journal would be passed out, and select students would be reading their works. I was eager to see what art work of mine they used( I previously received an email saying some of my work had been selected) and there was more free food. At this stage of my experience I was all over anything free, especially food. I took a seat in the auditorium and picked up the journal that as on my chair. It was bound more professionally than BVU's literary journal, but these were completely black and white. I was proud to see that they had used two of my works.: A picture from Florence and a print of Johnathon that I drew monsters on. I was checking out the other work when I heard a woman asking, "Do you know Morgan Anderson?" to random crowd members. I raised my hand and announced that I was Morgan Anderson. The woman said, "You got the cover!" I looked dumbly down at the book in my hands before recognizing Johnathon yet again. They had arranged one of my prints for the cover of the book, and I hadn't even realized it. The woman who turned out to be the creative writing professor continued to tell me how much she loved my work, called several of my pieces by name, and informed me that the editors had to stop themselves from using all my works. I've never felt more flattered in my life. She handed me two more copies with a hand tied red ribbon holding them together. As the ceremony started the projector turned on there was Johnathon big as could be. I was pretty pleased with myself. The readings of the night were good, especially the last one. It was the account of a girl who grew up in a cult. The event was finished with Indian food, which I had never had before. I met the student editor as she spooned food onto my plate. She distracted me so much with blush inducing compliments that I spilled my food all over the table. I'm not used to this kind of attention over my art, and I couldn't help but think about how impressed they'd be if they saw some of my BVU peers work. It was a good feeling all the same be appreciation. When it was time for me to leave it was nearly eleven o'clock and pretty dark out. I walked home anyway and regretted it. The roads i walk during the day had no street lights and I was a bit spooked. I decided next time I would take a bus and risk old roman men. I made it home safely and happily from another amazing day in Rome.

A Walk in the Park

I arrived at my modern tribes of Rome class on campus today as we were not scheduled to be on site. Professor Thommason decided that it is too nice of a day to stay inside and we left for a near by park. As it turns out, it is the biggest park in Rome, a title I thought belonged to villa borghese. I was wrong, this park was beyond massive and more natural than villa borghese: less fountains more forest and field. We walked through the park for twenty minutes before sitting on a slightly damp but vacant soccer field. The lecture of the class shifted to the topic of the park, and we discussed what we observed on our walk. As it turns out the park attracts the foreigners of Rome. Various immigrant groups use the enormous park for weekly get-togethers. Not only is it used by immigrants, but by the homeless population as well. They use the park as a safe place to sleep, as all the entry ways are locked at night. We learn that the park was once the private property of a wealthy family that died out and left the grounds to the city. Much to my surprise we have seen less than half of the park, it continues on for miles. I begin to think that this must be the park that Stu found in one of his wanderings while I was stuck in class. After the lecture a few people give their final presentations. Some were quite interesting including a girl who spoke Russian and reported on the Russian population in Rome. I didn't even know there was a Russian population in Rome. Listening to these presentations was a painful reminder that I had yet to re-find and question Yousef on his life. Becca and I have enough trouble re-finding places we've visited and it has now been two full months since we met Yousef. This made me nervous, but not nervous enough for me to take immediate action. Once in Art Gallery management I apologized to my group for missing our meeting. I felt immediately less guilty when I learned only two people had attended the meeting, and I didn't miss anything big. We were assigned an exhibition review in class to be turned in the following Wednesday. I chose an exhibit up the road from our school at the American Academy in Rome. It was a video presentation, which would give me more to write about in addition to the fact that it's opening was tomorrow, meaning free food and wine. After class I return home and munch on my Easter candy, which I finish. I also work on my opera paper, which I do not finish. I briefly entertain the idea of flying home for the services, and check the price of flights. I know that the insurance I have through the program covers plane tickets home in the case of death. Its not a terribly serious thought; with no idea how the reimbursement process works or what kind of proof the insurance company would need I drop the idea. I figure that my homecoming would be a distraction. I do feel better for looking however. I end my night excited for my busy day tomorrow.

Open the Floodgates

Back into my normal routine i woke up at seven to make my bodies and burials class. It passed relatively uneventfully, and I was eager to be out of it. Before I headed for my apartment during my three hour break I checked my mailbox for a package slip. I had been expecting my Easter package for a good while now, and my curiosity and desire for candy were making me extremely impatient. Today was my lucky day, it had finally arrived. I practically skipped up the stairs to pick it up from the business office. It was big :)waiting to open it in my apartment nearly killed me, but I made it, and it was worth the wait. My mood had significantly improved with the arrival of the package and it only magnified when I opened it. I received a jar of peanut butter (practically my life source) a jar of nutella, which I found funny as the U.S. imports it from Europe, and nutella is in every grocery store. I also had a reeces peanut butter egg, dove truffle egg, four plastic eggs filled with jelly beans and malted milk eggs, blueberry gummies shaped like assorted cute critters, and a hollow chocolate bunny. My Easter package even came with a small Easter basket complete with fake shredded shiny grass. Most excitingly I had a pocket sized wooly willy. I immediately ate most of the jelly beans and malted milk eggs saving the bigger items for later. I amused myself with the wooly willy showing him off to Stu during our afternoon/ early morning chat. He had never even heard of one before. I went back to school for a quick afternoon Italian lesson and was soon back in my apartment with the daunting task of writing my second and final opera paper. I started in and it was slow going. My motivation was lacking and the bad news of the previous day was finally setting in. I spent hours writing only a few pages and finally gave up around page five, about halfway through. I hadn't run out of things to write about, something many of my classmates struggled with. I simply couldn't focus enough to finish. I spent the next hour agitatedly waiting for Stu to finish his day of work so we could talk. I was hoping that he would be able to set my mind at ease. By the time we began webcamming I had started crying. Poor Stu he had never witnessed this (what was once a) rare event. He was stuck trying to console me through the cold confines of technology. he made a valiant attempt to cheer me up that only resulted in my tears turning to sobs. The lack of sleepover the weekend, the stress of completing my paper on time, and the death in the family made for an extreme release of emotions that were too much for my poor boyfriend to deal with on his own. Luckily he knew just what I needed, and called in reinforcements. My brother. Stu called Johnathon and told him I needed to talk to him. I was upset at first because I didn't want Johnathon to see me cry. I quickly dried my tears, before he got online. Stu was right, Johnny had me laughing and cheered up sooner that I could have imagined. Seeing and talking to him did me a world of good. Our relationship showed no weakness even from across the world. After Johnathon had to go I talked with Stu for a short amount of time and thanked him for calling Johnathon. I accepted the fact that my paper was going to be late, and went to bed in hopes of a few hours of rest before my early morning class.

No More Sleeping on the Floor!

Last night was my last night sleeping atop a pile of my clothing. Kelsey was gone, but Becca II had returned with her sister. Due to their enviable figures they shared the tiny twin bed. Becca I slept in my bed while I was on the floor. We still had quite the crowded room. On Mondays I don't have class until noon so Becca and I attempted the Vatican dome climb again.I once again sat in St. Peter's Square. This morning was particularly cold and wet, sitting was a bit of a gamble, one that I took due to the amount of time I expected to wait. I had brought my sole source of reading material, and began to chuckle when I realized the irony/ blasphemy of reading a science magazine in the square of the capital of my religion. I was beginning to turn into a Popsicle, so I put away my magazine and wandered the square. I had enough time to take pictures for a group of young Hispanic girls, and to watch a cute German baby play with her grandparents. Then Becca was walking towards me, pleased with her experience. We were quite hungry at this point so we stopped by pizza boom on our way back to the apartment. At this time I had fifteen minutes to get back to class; i.e not enough time. I made the executive decision to skip a day rather than ravenously eat and run while trying to squeeze in a goodbye with Becca. I knowingly skipped a meeting with my art gallery management group, but this way I would be able to show Becca to her train to the airport. This was the better choice for a clear conscious. I spent the time just hanging out with Becca as she packed up her things (more of a challenge than it sounds) We decided on McDonalds for supper, and stopped by the grocery store to shop for cookies on the way back. Becca wanted them for the plane ride home, and I didn't need an excuse to buy myself cookies. We stopped by the apartment to grab her many bags and headed down the road for the train station. We said our goodbyes as the train pulled up and went our separate ways. As much as I was looking forward to having space in my room again, not to mention my bed back, I found myself missing Becca I's familiar presence. She was a brief piece of home and things were quieter without her. I returned to my room and cleaned up my makeshift bed, and logged onto my computer to find my mother online. We typed back and forth on msn without webcam use. We talked a bout nothing in particular including how my cat of seven years had passed. this was sad news, but not terribly surprising. After talk of Fuzzy's death mom admitted that wasn't the only bad news she had for me. my cousin's husband, Marty, had passed suddenly, unexpectedly, and too soon for his young years. We chatted for awhile longer, and I was left to sort through a long distance family loss. There was a significant age gap between Marty and I and we weren't terribly close, but he was still family. I had never dealt with a death on my own and I feared that lack of the grieving process and acknowledgment would leave me feeling as though it had never happened. Without the services it was much harder for the reality that I would never see Marty again, that Tammy was now a widow before the age of forty, to sink in. I went to bed confused and exhausted from the long weekend and somber, heavy news.