Rome Wars Episode 3: Return of the Red Eye

I am fabulously tired as I write this, hence the title (Also, what else sounds like Jedi and is Rome applicable? The struggle). The jet lag for going 6 hours ahead isn’t terrible, so much as the travel time itself. I didn’t sleep at all on my overnight flight, partially due to my aisle seat, partially due to my paranoia that someone would steal one of the 675 things crammed under my aisle seat, and partially due to my having an adrenaline level comparable to a citizen being charged by a rhino in Jumanji. Since it’s been almost a month now, though, I guess I’m not really allowed to blame it on jet lag, and should instead place the culpability where it belongs, which is on the 17 episodes of Girls that I’ve been watching instead of doing my homework (Not me, no, too sensible).

Another red-eye inducer, if you’ll permit me a sidebar, is this webpage.

http://brobible.com/life/article/budweisers-new-commercial-rip-you-apart

Because my attention span is akin to that of a particularly schizoid chicken, (and because my mother sent me a Facebook message, snicker) I took a break from writing this blog post and viewed this link. Multiple tearjerkers, let me explain. Firstly, the BroBible people have mislabeled what is clearly a yellow lab as a Golden Retriever. Egregious. Thing two: The reference to Chive on the sidebar (32 Sexy Girls in Sports Bras…………) reminds me of the fact that a classmate showed Chive to 3 other boys in class the other day, and all 3 of them said, “hmm, that’s distasteful.” These are 3 A-Side frat boys. Maybe there is hope for the world. Thing three: I’m remembering last year’s commercial and it’s about to make me cry again, because I’m a big softie.

AT ANY RATE. You’re here for a Rome update. Overly-Detailed Email Update Numero Trè to follow after this image from our sponsors, and by that I mean a pic of me within inches of an inquisitive pigeon.

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Okay, now you’re ready for the email update.

I slept for a normal amount of time last night!!!! This is more incredible than you might think, seeing as the past two days I’ve woken up at 5 am and 4 am. THIS MORNING: 8:15 AM whoot and that’s just because Doria woke me up, afraid I might be late (I wasn’t going to be late).

I’ve gotten good at making my couch-bed. In the process of pulling the mattress away from the wall I found an unopened bag of italian Peanut M&Ms that expired in November. I fully intend to eat them.

I’ve come to the realization that I will be having the same exact thing for breakfast for the next 10 weeks: two pieces of pre made toast from whatever the Italian version of Pepperidge Farms is, with this red jam in which I’ve been studiously avoiding the chunks of peel (not sure how long I’ll be able to keep it up. By March will I be eating exclusively peel?!?) and a little cup of “caffe latte” on a flower saucer. I am not complaining. I like the caffe latte.

I’ve also come to the realization that I will never be served water. I am turning into a withered crone. All they drink is coffee and wine. I’ve started sneaking into the kitchen at night to furtively drink glasses of tap water. Thank god I’m not in Mexico.

After class today, I went on an “eating tour” of the city with a professional food critic, and I ate pecorino cheese, and pizza bianca, and this cool onion bread thing, and A FRIED CROISSANT WHICH WAS BASICALLY HEAVEN, and then we had expensive artisan beer ALL PAID FOR BY DARTMOUTH YAY. Repeating that for emphasis, Dartmouth just bought me a beer. Yep. I was also the only girl to finish my beer, so don’t fear, the frat star in me remains.

We met our other two teachers today, and they’re cool. Both dudes. One confirmedly gay and one possibly gay.

There were nuns on the bus.

I saw a dog pee on a BMW.

After our beer slash tour, Matt, Keaton, Amelia, and I went to dinner (because we are gluttons, there’s no excuse) and I ate spaghetti carbonara with bacon, and it was possibly the best food I’ve ever eaten, unless it’s second to the FRIED CROISSANT. Apparently they use a different kind of butter in Rome, with a lower fat percentage, but the FRIED CROISSANT was made from real french butter with extra fat or something. Fun facts. Fun… Butter facts.

I just met Doria’s grandson. She said something to him and I thought he was trying to get into the kitchen so I backed up, but really she’d told him to air kiss slash hug me, so I awkwardly accidentally rejected a 10 year old.  Typical.

That’s all for now. I’m not sure if I’ll always have so much to say or if things will calm down as I become a jaded veteran, so enjoy these while they last! 🙂

Stacy

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