Philosophizing

My endeavor for the day is this horoscope I read in one of British broadsheets at my internship this morning. Now before you go ahead and judge me, let it be known that I don't normally believe in astrological bullshit, but when you're at work and you have nothing else to do you find yourself reading about the most random things (such as the new smiley face stickers being placed on the urinals in elementary schools here so that boys have a better aim while they pee).



By the way the pictures included in this entry have no relevance to what I am writing, but I just enjoy posting pictures of good times with good people.



I'm quickly coming to the realization that my time here is dwindling down to a little under a month. It is incredible to think that merely 4 months ago I had just arrived in this city, big-eyed, lost and excited for the road ahead. I'll admit that I've lost sight of that a few times while here, but it's as though I've managed to realize where I've slipped and I'm right back on track.



The last couple of days I've been like a ping pong ball it seems. I keep going back and forth with whether this experience has been worth while and whether I really do want to come home. There are times when I'm just ready to see sun, beach, and my friends, but then I think "Dru when else will you be living in London like this?" It's a huge debate going on in my head and both sides have such great arguements. I'm at a standstill.



However, the prediction in the horoscope (laught it up) said that I've realized that one of my plans may have not come to fruition. That it was time to just get over it and move on. Not to look back, accept it and don't ask why? The truth is that's pretty much what I've come to realize and that may very well be why I'm agreeing with a stupid prediction of some looney. I'm probably just trying to find aspects of my life that concide with what she is saying. It's a bit eerie though how close she came though. I'm not going to lie.



So what does this mean exactly? I couldn't really say except that when studying abroad you get a whole new perspective for your life. Sounds hoakey and overly analytical, but it's true. For some reason you are drawn to a particular city to "study" and you're thrown into this social environment where you are forced to adapt. You meet fantastic people from all over and learn about eachother's backgrounds and where they come from. You quickly start to realize how great you have it back home, at school and what really means the most.

I put so much effort and so much money into coming here and the last thing I'd want to do is look back and say that my experience has been mediocre. It has all flown by so quickly and it feels like I'm going to wake up from all of this and wish I could go back to bed and continue the dream. Ever have that happen?

The great thing is that for the rest of my life the experiences I've encountered with these people will forever be a part of my life. A chapter in my book if you will. You know when they say that everyone in your life has a purpose for being there and it's your duty to find out what role they are suppose to play? It makes sense here.

It's fantastic to come to an empiphany of sorts in the middle of an experience such as this. Sometimes a few of us need a "WAKE UP!" call from the routines that we so comfortably fall into. It's often best if you can get yourself out of that zone and take the situation for what it is. It's about being where you are, when you're there. Sounds easy enough, but can you honestly say that you practice such a notion? Can you say that every minute of the day that passes you accept the reality that you perceive, that you are aware of your surroundings of the moment and that you are consciously trying to avoid thinking about the past, the future or even attempting to predict what step you'll take next? We lose sight of that sometimes because we are always looking ahead to the next milestone, but what if you're at one of your previously sought after milestones right now? Such as me being in London. It's what I've wanted, I'm here, so why not live it, love it and milk it for what it's worth?

Alright, so I've become some what of a philosophizer. LOL.

80s Beer Olympics

Let me just start off by explaining the situation before going on and telling you about the evenings' occurrences. Byng place (my place of residency) decided to throw a beer olympics and invite the other kids from the South Kensington dorm to play. The last couple of days there has been a revival of beer pong or berut as my Northeastern mates like to commonly refer to it as. Now, in the States it's fairly easy to get the equipment to play the highly cherished game of collegians, but whilst in London finding ping pong balls and solo cups-- not so easy. The hunt for such equipment is like that of hunting a wild boar. It requires stealth, patience and some creativity. Needless to say, we managed to get great substitutes for solo cups (16 oz cups are scarce in London) and paid nearly $8 for ping pong balls. NICE!




Once us blokes got a few of rounds of beer pong out of the way late last week. It was time for beer olympics on Saturday. The theme was to be 80s night, but somewhere along the lines of commmunication TOGA night was thrown around so it was more like an 80s/Toga beer olympics. However, my buddy Shane and I were insistant on making Saturday's beer olympics 80s themed. We were going ballz to the wall and no one was stopping us.


Saturday is Portobello Markets day. It's the best time to go and we happen to be in the area during the day. Shane and I started throwing ideas around about how funny it would be to have tube socks with the blue and red lines to wear, maybe some short track shorts and a sweat band. We had bought the aviators earlier in the week and we already owned the polos. Well, while at Portobello we stumbled on a stand of-- what else? SOCKS! And wouldn't you guess it, that lying on top is a 3 pack of white tube socks, with red and blue lines waiting to purchased by me. The vendor said they cost 4 pounds, but I talked him down to 3 after telling him I'd only pay a pound a pair. So, we were on our way to completing perhaps the best dressed get-ups of the night.


Now let me first say that these pictures I've included do my complete get-up no justice because you can't see my tube socks and sandals. However, as soon as people post more pictures from the night I'll be sure to update the blog. So with the tube sock, aviators and polos out of the way we were on the hunt for shorts. Like everything else in this city finding exactly what you want is a bit of a hassle. It's not as easy as saying lets just go to wal-mart and pick up this because they'll definitely have it. Shane and I were going to settle for soccer shorts from one of the sporting worlds on Oxford street but we decided to try our luck at one of the vintage stores on our way back to the tube on Portobello road. It was as though these two pairs of shorts were waiting for us. There were only two pairs left in the store of short, old-school adidas shorts that seemed excessively short, but just right for the occassion. There was a pair so small that I knew I could get my skinny ass into them and a bigger pair that seemed to fit the Shane-O. The best part is they were only 2 pounds. Cheap for a night of ridiculous antics.


However, the hunt didn't stop there. I wanted a sweat band. I needed a sweat band. I got a sweat band. Granted I paid more than I would ever pay in the States for a white, Nike head band, but it was essential to the completion of the ultimate 80s get-up. We kept the entire thing on the DL. Telling others to join us in the 80s festivities with out disclosing any information as to what we had brewing. Shane and I sat down and researched the No. 1 best 80s songs of the decade of spandex and electronica music. What we ended up with was exactly 5 hours of all the greatest 80s songs. We left out not one. We were on our way and there was no turning back.


We showed up to the common room where everyone had already begun the drunken sherades(sp) in full togas and a few girls had managed to put the pony tails to the side and whip out brightly colored shirts, but no one had gone to the extent that we had. Shane accentuated his mustache by putting masscara on it for God's sake! We stroll into the common room with a complete arrogance to us because we knew we looked the part. Let's just say we quickly turned into the life of the party. All eyes were on us. We even had silly Germans running downstairs to get their cameras to take pictures of the ridiculous Americans playing their ridiculous drinking games (including flip cup). It was like prom. People were snappin' pictures left and right. It was wicked. I mean we even went as far as getting the ridiculous high five down when someone made a noteworthy play during beer pong, which by the way we dominated practically the entire night leading to my inevitable passing out and vomit inducing night. It's never the first and will never be the last.

Night's like that have restored my faith in people's capabilities to let loose and enjoy themselves no matter how stupid people are. Everyone who lived in Byng participated in the DRUnkeness and mayham. We even had some Serbians playing beer pong and flip cup, which by the way must seem so ridiculous from their perspective if you really think about the games. FLIPPING A CUP in a relay race style? Throwing ping pong balls into cups arranged like bowling pins? They're laughing internally.

I hadn't had so much fun staying in, in the longest time. It has by far ranked as one of top 3 nights in London to date and I hope to duplicate the insanity again. The best part is I have an 80s playlist with 74 songs and 5 hours of rockin' 80s to listen to whenever I want to. SWEEEEEETTT!!!

Venice, Italy

Venice is EXACTLY as I had imagined. It's a tiny little island in shape of a fish (which I didn't know before looking at a map of where I was staying) with tiny, old buildings that look as though they are about to tumble over and crumble any minute. There are canals that weeve in and out, with bridges everywhere and tiny cobblestone walk ways that remind you of sketchy allies and look as though someone is about to jump out at you and mug you, but they don't.

Perhaps the coolest thing I saw while I was there that I had no idea existed in Venice was the Plaza San Marco. If you remember the De Beers diamond's commercial where the guy screams "I love this women" really loud and she gets embarrassed until the idiot whips out a diamond ring and then she's like "I love this man." (Yea, Golddigger). Anyways, it's the giant plaza. Or perhaps you remember the opening of Italian job when the old man calls Charlize Theron and he's in this plaza with all these pigeons and he tells her he's bought her a diamond necklace and she asks him if it has a receipt. Anyways, it's that plaza. It's a really neat piece of architecture and there is a church that stands at one end. It's swamped with pigeons that you can feed and they'll swarm you, but with the whole bird flu scare I was hesitant. I did manage to run through them and got the pleasure of kicking a few of them because I fucking hate pigeons. They're like rats with wings, they're so nasty.

We got to Venice at about 1 p.m. on Thursday and we were scheduled to fly out of Venice at 10 p.m. on Friday. We had plenty of time to get to know the tiny little islands that make up this place. Quite frankly there is only so much to do in Venice. Usually when I travel I like to wander the city and get lost, but in Venice you'll almost inevitably get lost without meaning too. Nearly every street looks the same and all the buildings block your view, the streets aren't a perfect grid and sometimes you need to walk down such narrow paths that you can seriously only go one person at a time, single file.

What was nice about Venice for a while is that you actually felt like you were in a different country. At least for Thursday you felt that way. There was hardly any English speaking people there, but by Friday all the tourists started swarming in and you could ONLY hear English by the time I left. It kind of ruined the atmosphere.

Whilst in Venice I managed to contract this Cannoli obsession on which I began what I like to call a Cannoli Crawl (similar to a Pub Crawl, but I scoured Venice for Cannolies). It started in Florence when I learned they weren't native to the Tuscan region, but when in Venice it really kicked in. When I say that nearly every bakery I passed I'd stick my head in and see if they made cannolies. Sometimes I got lucky and sometimes I didn't. I tried different types of cannolies of all shapes and sizes. Some where delicious and some could have used more work. By the end of the trip I ended up becoming an cannoli expert and even brought some back to London with me. To this day I continue to look for cannolies while in London.

Also, while in Venice as we were wandering the streets or allies as I like to call them. We stumbled across this tiny little pizzeria that sold slices for 1 euro. We only initially stopped there because it was cheap, but little did we know that it would become the most delicious pizza that we had ever had. After that slice we must have returned to that pizzeria 4 to 5 times each day we were there. By the end of the trip the owners recognized our faces and new exactly what we wanted and how we wanted it. It was great and I have yet to find pizza that can compete with that delicious piece of marvel. My mouth waters thinking about it.

Now you're probably wondering if I got the chance to ride a gondola (the tiny boats with the guys in the funny hats and striped shirts). The answer is no, well actually not technically. It's a real touristy thing to do and they gondola guys are everywhere trying to get you to jump on one and charge 80 euros for a 30 minute ride. If you can do that math that's nearly $95 for a 30 minute boat ride. So naturally I said no. However, there was a .50 cent gondola ride that took you directly across the Grand Canal (the main canal that runs through all of Venice). It's the same boat, same little dude he just doesn't sing and it lasts maybe 45 seconds to a minute. It's enough time to snap a few pictures and look like you road a gondola while in Venice. So there you have it. When you see my pictures that's what I did.

As you could imagine by Friday I was very upset that my trip to Italy was fast becoming a mere memory. I started getting kind of irritable by Friday afternoon and anxious to leave Venice simply because everything the island had to offer I had done and it was incredibly cold. I was miserable, but in retrospect I think it was just that I was sad to say Ciao to Italy. Never in my wildest dreams as a young bloke did I imagine that I'd spend an entire week in Italy. I remember looking at maps of the big boot and want to visit certain parts so badly and I had at 21.

I made myself a promise on the flight back to London that I would return to Italy next summer. There are still so many parts that I want to see and experience and eat more delicious food. I also made it a personal goal to learn Italian before I return so that my trip could be that much more enhanced by all the experiences. It would be incredible to submerge myself in the culture of this amazing country.

My trip to Italy was everything I wanted it to be and so much more. I have close to 600 pictures from all the girls cameras and tons of great memories. I am so happy that I got to spend an entire week of my spring break in Italy. I think before I return home I'll be traveling back to Sardinia, Italy (an island just west of the boot comparable to Sicily) for a weekend of beach and sun (I miss it so much).

Look back it sort of all seems like a dream. When you are faced with so much history and tradition its like it none of it really happened. It's great because now when I read about Rome, Florence and Venice and the artists that are famous from there, the famous buildings, the history, the stories, the art and the fiction I can relate so much better. Actually going to Rome and seeing the Colosseum or the Pantheon makes understanding history so much easier and interesting. On the train ride to Venice I read up on Florence in one of the guide books and it was easier to retain all the information and interesting tid bits of history because I had been to the places, seen the buildings or art and was able to appreciate it. I wasn't blindly reading about some statue that I had no idea what it looked like. It's the same when I returned to London and went back to the Victoria & Albert museum where they have casts of original pieces of art and buildings from throughout Europe. I was able to go through the room and identify where each piece came from and where I had seen in when I visited it in Italy. I was able to relate to it more because I saw the real thing and read up on it after the fact. That's why I want to reread Da Vinci Code (after I visit Paris though) and Angels & Demons. Maybe after having been to the places he talks about I can visually picture the stories better. Funny how after this entire trip THAT'S what I want to do. lol.

A word to the future traveler.... you can do Venice in one day. There really isn't much else to see or do than eat and shop knick-knacks at outdoor markets.

Firenze, Italy

We got to Florence at night. It was rainy and cold and we were all pretty exhausted. As the Alpha male (and the only male at that). I often took the lead of where we were going, what we were doing and how we were getting there. Sometimes (because we were in a different country and not all the streets are perfect grids like back home) I'd get a little lost and the girls would bitch. Florence was one of those occassions. Before heading out to Italy we had all booked hostels on our credit cards (a wise decision for anyone planning on coming over). The one in Florence was on my credit card so I had all the paper work. Finding the hostel was the most confusing thing in the world. It was so frustrating because we were all tired, it was late and we had no idea how to communicate with the people. I couldn't pronounce the name of the road the hostel was on and we'd ask for directions and we could hardly understand their English. However, for the most part Florence was swamped with American students and very tourist friendly. It was BY FAR my FAVORITE city in Italy. It was NOTHING as I had envisioned it. When I thought Florence I thought old, country side, cottage town with small stall markets, old people and rich in history. It was almost the opposite. It was very young, pretty trendy, artsy, kind of like a mini metropolis, but in this incredible old town rich in history.

For those of you wondering what there is to do in Florence the answer is NOTHING. There are probably two things to see in Florence. 1) The Duomo for which MichelAngelo modeled St. Peter's Basilica after 2) David which you have to pay to see inside The Accademia. There is a famous old bridge that is lined with shops that sell gold and silver jewlery. For the most part Florence is great for INCREDIBLE food, good shopping and an amazing night life. It really is a young person's city. We enjoyed it so much that we decided to stay one extra day instead of heading out to Pisa as we had planned. In Florence they had a few markets along the streets, but they didn't sell much of anything special. For the most part they all sold the same stuff. Leather hand bags, shot glasses (which I continued my tradition of collecting one from each city I had visited), t-shirts that read (Ciao Firenze, Ciao Bella, Ciao Ciao), and other little nothings. Sometimes you'd come across knocks offs.

It was actually pretty funny because you have these guys who'd lay out these sheets in the middle of the street and put out their fake hand bags for people to look at. Thing is it's illegal for them to do it, so when cops would drive by they'd grab the sheet up and stand there until the police left. There were like 8 of them on a single side walk with this massive sheet over their shoulders standing there. The police aren't dumb to it, and the guys obviously look suspicious holding this giant bundle, but they don't do anything about it. Even funnier was the guys who sold the sun glasses. They would tape the sunglasses down a cardboard box that folded up nicely if they had to make a quick clean up. They had it all planned out.

I ate really well in Florence. As we were looking for a hostel the night we got there. I walk into this random Irish bar called the Old Stone to see if they knew where the address was. As soon as I walk in, in the back of the bar there's a kid sitting there with this girl. He looks up and I think to myself. Holy shit I think I know him. He gets up and walks over to me and it turns out that he lived on my floor in Rawlings freshman year. We hung out a couple of times and he was studying in Florence for the semester. It was so crazy to run into someone I knew from UF all the way across the world. It was really fucking cool. He told us about this great restaurant that everyone in Florence hits up when they are there. It's called Acqua al 2. We waited almost 2 hours and finally sat down to eat at 11:30 p.m. to eat dinner, but it was entirely worth it. I had the most amazing cannaloni's and strawberry cheesecake of my life. The restaurant was amazing. It was filled with locals and young kids my age from the U.S. and all over. I'd never seen so many cute girls in one room.

Our hostel turned out to be really great. Again, it was not as I had imagined hostels to be. This one was a loft apartment that had one room converted into a room with 6 beds on one floor and 5 beds upstairs. We shared the room with two New Zealand grad students backpacking for Spring Break. This Italian guy lived there and it was run by a family that also owned a restaruant downstairs. When we first walked in one of the guys was cooking and it smelled delicious. The place was clean, well kept and not at all sketchy. If and when I return to Florence I'd stay there again. If you knew me I USE to be the pickiest S.O.B. in the world, but since being abroad I've toned that down a SIGNIFICANT amount and I've learned to suck it up and take things for what they are worth.

I'm convinced that America has Americanized Italian food because nothing I ate while in Italy tasted like the Italian food that is found in America. First off they don't use as much marinera sauce as American makes it seem. The don't call it marinera sauce its Margherita sauce. Their chicken parm isn't fried and breaded like you always see and it's cooked in a fine white wine. The great thing about the food was that you would always leave stuffed, but you never felt greasy or nasty afterwards. Also, all the portions are seperate. They aren't as gluttonous as Americans are. You order your pasta seperate from your main meal. In moderate portions, but just enough to fill you up and keep you satisfied. The downside to dining in Italy was that they charge you for bread, that's not hot, the charge you a cover to eat (usually 2 euro which is about $3), but you aren't expected to tip.

After eating at Acqua al 2 we wanted to continued the binge eating at insanely delicious restaurants. So, we found the No. 1 place to eat in Florence. Mama Gimma's. HOLY SHIT. I can't describe the amazing pasta/cannaloni thing I had there stuffed with ham and cheese or the chicken parm with a side of spinach. Granted the meal cost about $27, but it was well worth every penny. How can you go to Italy and be stingy about spending money on delicious food. It was in Florence that me and the guys became fantatical about finding Cannoli's. Turns out they aren't customary to the Tuscany area which is where Florence is located. However, Florence is home to some of the BEST gelato. No matter where you go in Florence you can't go wrong stopping at any gelato bar and getting a few scoops.

While I was there I got this sweet scarf that says Italia with it's flag and crest on it. I'm gonna hang it in m room in the new apartment that's going to be decked out in crap I pick up from all over Europe. Pretty sweet.

We said Ciao to Firenze on Thursday morning as we headed on a 5 hour train ride to Veniza. We said ciao to 3 of the girls and the guys from South Kensignton. I was left with just 3 girls traveling to Venice.

Roma, Italy

What a crazy two weeks it has been, but I'm finally back to a regularity that borders boredom and monotony. However, I have some really great material to write about on these next couple of posts so I'll be sure to capture as much detail and excitement as I've had these past two weeks.

Let me start with: ITALY!

Since I could remember I've wanted to visit this amazing country. I've joked about how I should have been born Italian because there isn't anything about the country and culture that I don't admire and enjoy. My week long trip to this incredible place confirmed my suspicion that I was once Italian.

I began my journey on Sunday March 5. It was the first official date that I could travel with my Schengen Visa (because I'm not an American citizen and I don't care a U.S. passport I had to get a special visa to travel to the European Union). Saturday night was my last hoorah! in London and a bunch of us had early flights the next morning. In true college tradition we decided to drink the night away and not sleep. We figured our trips wouldn't be crazy enough and decided to get shitty at the University of London Union. We were all going to different parts of the world in a little less than 10 hours and all we wanted to do was knock back a few pints. By the time we got back it was 2 a.m. and I had to be at the airport by 6:30, but up by 3 a.m. to get to the airport. So none of us slept. I had friends going to Germany, Spain, and Ireland. We were stupid for staying up.

The trip to the airport was ridiculous at 3 a.m. because there are only certain buses that run at night and they only go until a certain hour. I had to make to Victoria Station and from there take an hour and half bus ride to Luton Airport. I was exhausted, but I was anxious to get to Italy.

Flying with RyanAir (the economical air carrier in Europe) is interesting. My entire trip to Italy round trip cost me $95. Yes, U.S. American dollars. It's cheap and I was half expecting a run down plane that would crash into the side of a mountain with incompetent pilots. What I was faced with was a massive 737 plane with spacious leather seats and very little else. It's not your American Airlines flight from Miami to New York. They don't offer you peanuts and water and you have to pay for anything you want on the plane. What is interesting is that you don't have an assigned seat and basically its a free-for-all once you get on the plane.

I was traveling alone Sunday because I planned my trip later than the group of girls I was going with. Here's the interesting bit. I was originally planning to go to Italy with Laura, but then plans fell through. So, I wasn't going to sit in the dorms alone while everyone was on spring break in great places. I knew I wanted to go to Italy and what a better opportunity than for an entire week? The only people going was a group of 7 girls. Most of which who go to UF. I tagged along and it didn't turn out to be bad. I was still able to have a good time and we actually ran into some of the guys from the South Kensington dorms.

I arrived just on the outskirts of Rome in Ciampiano at about 11 a.m. and took a bus to the center of Rome. I sat next to a funny Italian woman from Florence with a brillo-like hair. She spoke some Spanish so we were able to have a little conversation. She was really nice, a little awkward, but genuine. It's funny that when you're traveling alone with just a backpack how your survival instincts and social skills just bump up a couple of notches.

The bus took us to Termini station in the heart of Rome. My hostel was a mere 10 minute walk from the station, but it took me more like 25 minutes because I walked around the station like a jack ass looking for the street I needed. The language barrier was much more difficult than I had ever imagined. I thought that because I spoke Spanish that I'd be able to get by somewhat because the dialects are very similar. They only vary by a few letters sometimes.

As I was walking to the hostel, the girls happen to be returning from breakfast. They had arrived the night before and were already settled into the hostel. I had no time to get acclamated to the hostel when I came in. It looked descent and nothing like what I expected a hostel to look like. It wasn't dingy, nasty or sketchy at all. It was owned by an American bohemian of sorts and run by Australian backpackers who decided to extend their stay. It even had a sign that said "Can't go home? Don't want to go home? Stay and work for us." It was that kind of place. We put my bag down and immediately hit the streets to go site seeing. Keep in mind I hadn't slept but an hour on the bus ride to Luton Airport. So, I'm pretty exhausted, but the sleep seems to somehow wear off when you're traveling.

Rome was a lot grimier than I had envisioned it. I was picturing an old, traditional, but classical Rome. It was very much metropolitan and polluted, congested and tarnished with graffiti. It's not too bad, but it's just not what I had pictured it to be. We did the Colosseum and Palatino (a picturesque garden on a hill that overlooks the entire city just next to the Colosseum). Unfortunately, the Colosseum is very much destroyed and very deteriorated. It was surreal being there though. You read about it, see it in movies and learn about it since you could remember and then one day you are just standing in front of it. It's overwhelmingly large, but not massive enough to spot from a distance. Once you got in it reminded me of - what else?- but our beloved stadium The Swamp. It's very much comparable to it and it's actually smaller than the The Swamp. The remaining standing side is impressive in structure, and the inside is old but still holds so much mystery and wonder. It's great to just look at and imagine all the events that went on within those walls. Much of the colosseum was taken apart in years past. It was once made entirely of marble, but now it seems supported by brick. However, we did manage to find some original marble floor.

We decided to have lunch and picked what we thought was an authentic Italian restaurant. I was so pumped for the food. The menu had these delicious looking pictures and featured every italian food imaginable. I LOVE Italian food and I could wait. WE GOT FUCKED. Turns out that imitation Italian food restaurants reside near every major tourist attraction in Italy. They often feature pictures on their menu and ALL their food is FROZEN and reheated in a Microwave. How did we know? We could hear the PING! of the microwave from our table as each of our plates come out one by one. Looking back its funny, but at the time we were disappointed. I paid 9 euro (The euro is more comprable to the U.S. dollar, so it's about $11) for a two frozen cannaloni's stuffed with spinach and ricotta cheese. Nasty.

That night we found a brochure for a Pub Crawl that met at the Spanish steps. We decided to do it. It was 15 euros and it included free beer from 9 p.m. to 10 p.m., admission into 3 clubs, a shot at each club and a free t-shirt. It was well worth it. I hadn't had so much fun with strangers. I met some really awesome people who were there on their spring break. It was as crazy as spring break should be. People were hooking up, we played drinking games, body shots, drunken stupidity through the streets of Rome. It was awesome. I was a little hesitant at first because it just seemed lame, but I would do it again in a heartbeat.

Other sites we hit up while in Rome were the Pantheon, which is the largest dome with a giant hole in the middle. It's really impressive architecturely. Just imagine how the could build something of that nature without the tools we have today. The entire place is decked out in marble. It's flawless. To get a better view of the dome I laid down on the floor. As people stared at me like a fucking weirdo, but it was cool.

My favorite site was the Fontana de Trevi. According to legend if you throw a coin into it, you are destined to return to Rome. The fountain was amazing. It was so large and just perfect. I would do it no glory to describe it. The pictures we took don't even capture how awesome it was. Just around the corner from it we found the most delicious pizza in the world. Also, we found a world-reknown Gelato bar. Now, I dislike ice cream, but I have a great appreciate for gelato. Its fucking delicious. This was just the beginning of the incredible food that was to come. We learned our lesson and were able make wiser decisions when it came to picking places to eat. It was a lot easier to spend money on food in Italy than in London because the exchange rate from dollars to euro is so much more favorable. I have never eaten so much in one week. I constantly had food in my mouth. We'd pass pizza joints, gelato bars, bakeries.... yum.

We hit up The Vatican the last day we were there which was Wednesday morning bright and early. We checked out of our hostel, which we shared with 3 Spanish girls and to Irish lads who took us out to this incredible Italian restaurant Tuesday night. I ordered lasagna with a red wine. So good. We were the first people at The Vatican at 8 a.m. we wanted to climb St. Peter's Basilica so we got there extra early. It cost 4 euros to go up the 576 (give or take a few) steps to the stop. It was well worth it. The view from a top The Basilica was incredible. You could literally see the entire city. It was a beautiful day. I broke out the Oakley's and we just sat there for a while the 8 of us. For a bit we were the only ones up there. Just us, The Vatican and Rome. I wrote my grandma a post card from atop the Basilica. I'll never forget it. Inside The Basilica was again INCREDIBLE. It made me wish I was more devoted to my religion and that I had visited it BEFORE I read Dan Brown's Angels & Demons, which I may go back and read now that I've been to where the entire took place. I may understand the book better. I don't know what else to say about The Vatican because it's just flawless... by the time we came out the line to get up The Basilica was about a 2 hour wait. So we were smart for getting an early start. We ate a restaurant near by that we had wished we found earlier in the week because the pasta was handmade fresh, they had an insane buffet of all traditional Italian food, it was delicious.

One of the funniest things that happened the entire trip was us trying to communicate with the locals. It made me want to learn Italian when I get back to the States. I made myself a promise that I'd be back in a year and that by then I'd be able to get around the city speaking Italian. But while we were there we'd try to order food and took make any exceptions we'd have to act out what we didn't want on it. Or when we tried ordering water they'd try to charge us for bottled water, but we were happy with tap water. We didn't know how to say it, so we sat there telling the waitresses FAUCET water, acting out streams of water coming from a faucet and turning fake knobs. They eventually got it, but it would take a while. We did learn how to say thank you (grazie), your welcome (prego), hello/goodbye (ciao), good morning (bon journo), good afternoon (buena sera), how much does it cost (cuanto costa), very good (multo buono), salt (sale), two (due-pronouced Do-eh), excuse me (escuse- pronounced Ex-cuz-eh) and a few others, but those are the ones we used the most.

With our backpacks on our backs (which weren't light) we hopped on a train to Florence. It was a 3 hour trip through the country decorated in mountains and hills. It reminded me of that scene in EuroTrip with Italian guy and they go in the tunnel. I slept most of the way. I was exhausted, but I did see some mountain peaks with snow tops. That was cool. So we were saying Ciao Roma and Bon Journo Firenze (Florenze)

That's St. Paul's Cathedral.

After School

Crazy independent club. Myself, Sean, Mike and Jessie at After School an Indie Club


I went to my first Indie Club a few nights ago. I think I mentioned it in a previous post, but here's a picture from that night. The place was called After School because in the day time it's actually a school where kids go to school. lol. Then, they convert it to a dance club at night, so you're sort of dancing in a cafeteria area, but you'd never know it. It's pretty sweet. These guys are the coolest sons of bitches. Sean and Mike live in South Kensington (the other dorm). It was a good time, with good friends.

S.C.U.K.

It stands for Sports Cafe United Kingdom. They ripped it off the French Connection logo. This was another crazy night. Pete, Shane and Myself decided to hit up a pub and take it easy. We realized it was a Tuesday night and where else can you get 1 pound pints on Tuesday night? American Sports Cafe! The three of us planned to take it easy, but as soon as we got there we ran into Abi, Tegan and Jenna from the South Kensington dorm. Needless to say, we started having chugging contests and playing quarters. We tried fucking eachother over by giving the same person all drinks everytime we made it in the cup. I had my internship the next morning, but let me tell you it was well worth it because the day goes by so much faster when you are hungover..... or still drunk for half of it.



Shano, Abi, Myself and Jenna

White Hat Crew

This was the same night as S.C.U.K. we all ended up coincidentally wearing white hats and getting pretty shitty than walking back in the freezing weather. "The good times are killing me." - Franz Ferdinand


White Hat Crew

It SNOWED!

Alright, so nearly everoyone I've come across with London I've felt compelled to share with them the simple notion that I have yet to see snow. Even people at my internship know how obsessed I am with wanting to see snow. Well I got my wish. Now, let me first start off by saying that it didn't snow significantly enough for me to play in it. Oh yes I said play because that's exactly what I want to do if it snows hard enough is PLAY in the SNOW. I want to build a snowman, make snow angels (laugh it up), go sledding and get in a snowball fight. None of which I've ever done and must do before I get too old to enjoy making a snowman.

I was walking in Camden Market looking for a backpacking backpack for my trip to Italy in 3 days. All I have are suitcases and traveling around 4 different cities with those rolling suitcases can be a bitch. As I'm making my way back towards the tube a large black cloud loomed overhead. The day was freezing, but I was comfortable (I had my long johns on). I didn't think it was going to snow, but as I'm about to walk into the station tiny white balls start falling. Alright, so you're going to think I'm an idiot but I had no idea it was snow for a good 2 minutes. I looked at them and thought first they were ashes from something burning, then I thought they were shredded paper, but as they hit me and they felt cold and then started melting I realized it was snow. Those are usually to significant hints that it's snowing.

From a previous post I had mentioned I had seen flurry, but this was full on snow. It was solid little pieces of snow flakes falling from the sky. They were like tiny snowballs. They fell rapidly, it was kind of like rain (yes I know that's what snow is) but solid. The snow didn't last long on the floor, it'd melt almost instanteously. I stood outside and let it fall on me for a while before I decided to get on the tube, but the 10 minutes I stood outside was amazing. No one else seemed phased by the idea that it was snowing. Everyone in Camden Town acted like it was normal for them and it may very well be. It was amazing for me though. Again, I felt like a little kid and I'm still so happy that I can find things that amaze me like that. I've been on this earth for 21 years and I still haven't seen everything and little things like that are worthwhile.

As I stood there letting the snow fall on me (I literally just stood in the middle of the sidwalk) people kept looking at me like I was a weirdo. I took a picture, but you can hardly see the snow in it. Anyways, I was standing there just staring up at the sky and the snow falling when a tiny snow flake falls into my eye. I flip out in the middle of the street screaming "mother fucker my eye" (bare in mind I'm by myself). I laugh now, but I was embarrassed because I forgot I was in public flipping out about how this tiny snow flake just irritated my eye. I guess you had to be there.

The northern part of England just got hit by a massive blizzard and ridiculous amounts of snow. I just may take a trip there to go play in the snow. Yes, play.

Joseph Arthur

Friday night I decided to take a break from my drinking binge and do something a little different. I was invited by my friend Shane to one of his favorite musicians concerts. It ended up he had an extra ticket to his classes event, so I decided to go. Normally I wouldn't go to a concert of an artist I've never heard of nor know any lyrics to one of their songs, but as with all things here I felt as though I couldn't pass up the opportunity. The venue was a mere 45 mins. outside of Bloomsbury. As we approached the venue a large marquee read SOLD OUT. I found it strange considering I had never heard of this Joseph Arthur guy and apparently he was American. The place was massive. It was a 4 level old-style theater reminiscent of an opera house. The stage was decorated in a dark blue with just a microphone and some amps. It was a "cozy" atmosphere that made me feel as though I should be sitting in a coffee shop sipping a warm cup. I wasn't really expecting much from this guy aside from the fact that I was told he sounded like a mixture of Pete Yorn and Howie Day both of which I enjoy separately, so a combination of the two should be interesting.

His opening act was a guy from Texas (sipping a Corona) called Mike Klein. He used this machine that I had never heard of that was wicked cool. He basically created his own band right on stage. The machine allows the musician to create a beat on the guitar, by plucking a single string, strumming it, beating on it like a drum and it records the beat. The artist than loops it over and over setting the pace. He then begins playing the melody live on his guitar and singing. It was a one-man band.

Finally, Joseph Arthur comes on stage. There is a large white canvas on the stage, along with white projection screens randomly sprawled out, a microphone, blue & white christmas lights and spotlights flooding the stage. I had no idea what this guy looked like so when a man walks on stage, grabs a black marker and begins drawing two abstract figures on this large white canvas I'm confused. He starts by playing his most famous song "Honey and The Moon." I'm impressed immediately. This guy is good, he knows how to play his acoustic and he's got this serene-raspy voice that echoed throughout the entire venue. As packed as the place was it had a Mtv Unplugged vibe to it. However, he didn't really strike me as a Howie Day/Pete Yorn. He seemd more like a Jacob Dylan/Wallflowers/Gavin Degraw- more crude version. His music was great. As he sang and played he used the same machine his opening act used. Images of abstract figures and imagery were projected onto the white screens as he moved from song to song without interruption. Then, he gets to this one song where he slowed the pace down completely. He removed the mic from the stand and walked over to the white canvas with these two abstract figures of a woman and man. He begins singing this hypnotic song as he picks up paint and starts painting his creation. The song was amazing. It may have been how he sung it, or the fact that he was painting as he sang it, but I still remember one of the song's lyrics.

"Don't whine
drink wine
like terpentine
it cleans your inside."

I don't know what it was about this song that hit me hard enough for me to remember that one lyric. Anyways, his painting was no work of art by any means. He took some paint and splashed it around, grabbed a few spray cans and spray painted it. It was nothing I couldn't have done, but what can you expect from abstract art? Apparently, he does this at every concert and he ends up selling his paintings for thousands of dollars on eBay. The concert went on for nearly 2 hours. He had a really long set list and he just kept playing. I enjoyed every minute of the concert. To date it has been one of the best things I've ever seen both in London and back home. I was so excited to have come across new music and have taken a chance going to the concert. I ended up going to Virgin Records and buying his cd. I haven't bought a cd in so long and I paid nearly £10 for it ($20). Shane said he'd buy it from me before we returned home though, which works out. I was also able to look up the song he sang as he painted based on that one lyric I remembered. I had to sit and click through all his songs to find it, but what else am I to do at my internship when I'm bored? If you're going to check out this guy (he's good study music material) make sure you start by downloading "Honey and the Moon." If you've got an itch to hear the song I was obsessed with it's "Crying like a man."

Check him out.