I feel like a Junky stalking off in the middle of the night.

Blue 9 is closed.

No, I don't want New Amici's.  No thank you.

There are no burger places right around here.  I could go to St.Mark's?

Is Papaya Dog worth it?  Really?  Am I really going to Papaya Dog at midnight?  They didn't even cook it as rare as I wanted it to be last time.  They practically burnt it.  Where else can I get a $2.75 burger?

I walk there as if I've got voices in my head.  I'm skittish, nervous.  If there was a way a junky was supposed to feel in my head that'd be it.  Maybe I'm just projecting that onto myself because Junky was the first word that came to my head when I stepped out the door.  Probably.   I'm usually far less crazy than I like to think I am.

It's cold.  Good thing I've got my jacket.

Papaya Dog.  No, I don't want the young guy to make my burger.  It's not the young guy from last time, is it? He cooks an awful burger.  No, the old guy.  He'll probably make it better.

No, I don't want it medium rare.  I asked for it rare.  That's what I say in my head but I'm far more polite in actuality.  I understand if you have some sort of health code that won't let you make that burger for me.  I'm not going to sue you.

It's been hours since I've eaten, right?  There's nothing wrong with wanting a burger at this time of day.

Shouldn't I be sleeping?  I could've.  30 minutes ago if I did I probably wouldn't have thought of a burger.

You're cooking it too long.  I can tell.  I can see the steam rising out from under that little bowl.  That's everything tasty escaping.  It's going to be a shriveled piece of black meat by the time you hand it to me.

You're clearly distracted by the other patrons of this fine establishment.

It's more cooked than I'd have liked.  But it's rarer than I expected.  So I'm alright.

Mmm.

I'm uncomfortable.  Everything past me stepping out of the door to me sitting here writing leaves me uneasy.  Did I just need to get out?  Did I just stress eat?  Do I have a fixation on burgers?  Why am I writing about this?  I'm going to post this on some sort of social networking site.  Does being candid about vanity excuse it? Is any of this really about the burger?

I have witnessed the depths of actor/director/writer hell.

As some of you may or may not know, for one of my auditioning classes, we have to seek out 4 real auditions, go to them, and report back on the experience.

Easy enough, I thought!  I'll just look around online, I'll be sure to find some fun ones.

And find one, I did.  I went to the production company's website, and this was the first warning sign that I was dealing with something far more awful than I could ever imagine.

Not to give the site away, but only to describe it as best as I can, imagine the most awful 90's-internet-geocities-angelfire-xanga-looking shitty website you can imagine, and that was it.  Pretty much just a side-to-side wall of text in font that was a little uncomfortably big, where every few paragraphs was seperated by a montage of small thumbnails of the same image over and over again.  That, and there's this piano "music" playing in the background.

Oh, and the title image bounces back and forth.

So, I say to myself, "Well, this is just for a class.  Probably won't have to dive too deep into this production."

The following is the e-mail correspondence between me and what I at the time could only assume was the director, James.

Hello, my name is Andy Zou, and I'm interested in auditioning for this understudy.

I got this back:

JAMES:  WOULD U B WILLING to memorize a scene for a Workshop-Audition? TX jdk gow

After getting over the concerning use of caps lock, I deciphered the ending as some sort of signature.  And what does a "Workshop-Audition" mean?  Kind of weird. I ask:

ME:  Of course, when?

He responds with two e-mails:

JAMES:  I M SENDING ALONG 2 scenes. Select one to master. Let me know when you are ready to perform it. TX jdk gow

MONDAY NITE MIGHT BE ON. PLS let me know if good 4 u. TX jdk gow

First, he did send me two files, but they are the exact same file.  The fact that I have to "master" the scene also makes my eyebrows furrow.  

ME:  You sent me two of the same scenes, also, I need to know which one you want me to read for?

Also, what time on Monday?

JAMES:  CHOOSE THE SCENE you prefer. Time probably in the evening. TML jdk gow

At this point I'm inclined to just not question the fact that he sent me two identical scenes.  Maybe they're the two scenes he wants me to choose from.  But I ask again. 

ME:  I'm saying that you did not send me 2 different scenes; both files you gave me are exactly the same?

JAMES:  SORRY. DO THAT ONE, then. How about Monday around 6? TX jdk gow

ME:  Where?

JAMES:  After I set up the time, all info will go out. TX jdk gow

By this point I have several theories of what is wrong with this person.  

1.  He no speekee good engrish

2.  He suffered some sort of blunt force trauma to the head in his life, resulting in memory and attention disorders.  

Or, the one I was most hoping for:

3.  He's some sort of savant that I could never understand.

So, the day of the auditions.

I'm apprehensive, curious.  I arrive at the studios where the audition is going to take place, and just as I'm about to open the door, an old goateed man rides up on a bicycle with mirror sunglasses and a helmet on.  

Opening the door, we venture into the studios, and he follows me in to the studio.  He is James.  The director.  The writer.  The producer.

There are half a dozen other men in the room, now.  All ranging from middle aged to maybe my age.  Some in suits, some casual.  I could tell already that this was going to be a really odd crowd.  

Paraphrased, this is how it began.  

"So, the reason I'm not holding regular auditions is because I don't believe in the cut-throat process of auditioning, where you're trying to mess everybody else up just to make yourself look better, and in the end this isn't about you, it's about the piece.  So I hold these workshop-auditions so that I can see you guys work on the piece, so I'm trying to see who's going to put in the, because in this industry you've got to work, and you know, in the end, this is your craft."

I am transfixed.  

To give you basically the rest of the background, he originally wrote this piece as a screenplay with 17 different actors.  But of course, trying to get 17 different actors in the same room at once was impossible.  This was all 18 months ago, when he originally started work on the project.  Since then, the production has been whittled down to a cast of 5.  There are some asian women who play certain parts, but for the most part, he plays almost all of the male parts, doubling as both characters in many 2-person scenes, where he denotes the character with a position or a prop.  So the play basically went from having 17 actors to him playing almost everybody.

So what happened next was he acted with us while we read one half of the sides, then flipped the characters so that we read what he was just reading.  He did this so that he could show us what the characters were like.  He'd give us feedback as to what he wanted from us, what each character was really like.   

Already, everything in my head concerning auditions is imploding.  

So we'd be reading with him, and he'd forget lines every once and a while.  People would try to seem like they memorized the sides, forget key lines, and he'd stop the action to correct them.  I just wondered why he didn't have somebody else in the room read for the character.

To give some quick plot details, the screenplay is about a Vietnam soldier returning from the war with multiple personality syndrome.

The plot device for how you know which personality is being expressed in the main character, is he puts on a bike helmet and mirror sunglasses.  

Now, you might say, "Oh, just a happy coincidence.  He's using the stuff he walked in the door with just to show which character he is now."  But you'd be wrong.  This alternate personality wears a bike helmet and mirror sunglasses.  I can scarcely imagine how he decided to make this the "costume" for his character.  Could he have been riding his bike one day and just thought, "Hey!  This should be the costume for that character!"  Or maybe he came up with the character first and thought, "Hey, I'll just be in character all the time when I'm riding my bike."

@_@

And now for the rest of the people in the room.  

We have Very Good Looking Guy that Doesn't Inflect.

National Guard Guy With a Speech Impediment and Poor Understanding of English Grammar

Guy Who came in a Full Suit and Briefcase because there was a role of "Agent"

And my favorite one of all, 

Tall Goofy-Looking Guy who read his lines like a cross between a Power Rangers villain and a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle.  Presumably because he thinks that's what soldiers sound like. 

Those were just the interesting people.  Some other people in the room seemed like they had a sense of what was happening in this room, too.

Anyways, one of my favorite exchanges was between National Guard Guy and another man.  The Man cut National Guard Guy off right before The Man had a lengthy bit of monologue.  National Guard Guy stammered and "um"ed throughout the monologue, until The Man was done and pointed out that he had cut him off.

So they went back to that part, let him say his line, and then they did the monologue over again.  

James really liked it when people memorized the sides.  He'd compliment you if you did.

Not to mention that this was some of the most trite, bad writing I've had the pleasure of seeing.  The beginning of the play is James's character narrating a screenplay, which is gradually supposed to turn into stage action.

Then comes the "expressionistic piano ballad."

After reading the first lines of the "screenplay," he sits down at the piano and plays a small melody, then looks around.  He explained to us,"And now, I'm looking around, waiting for her to come."  Who?  The ghosts of Vietnam, apparently.

This was where he read with this young asian woman who was playing an NVA soldier, Li Ming.  He, a grizzled old white man, was now playing her brother, Ming Tet.

Ming Tet:  Sister, I feel that we have grown apart!

Li Ming:  Oh, but what do you mean?  You are still my brother!

Ming Tet:  Oh, I never said that I wasn't your brother anymore.  But we have grown apart!  We no longer understand each other.

Li Ming:  It is because you do not understand love.

Ming Tet:  Oh, I have learned a thing or two about love, sister.

He's currently working on 10 different screenplays.  His life story apparently involved a point in his life where he was trying to act.  Then he basically told us that he wasn't getting work so he decided to start writing parts for himself.  

"I'm a storyteller."

At the "World Premiere" which was a while beforehand, he lost tons of money investing in getting lights hung, paying stagehands, getting a piano in, and getting insurance for the piano.  He poured his own money into this production.  

And what terrifies me most is the absolutely unabashed sincere devotion he has to this project.  I suppose that is to be admired in any artist, but it's the fact that he has absolutely NO idea how awful everything about it is, and how it's never going to get anywhere.  I might be in no position to really make these judgments, but this is my reflexive first thought about this production.  He mentioned how he tried selling his screenplay, but couldn't because he didn't "know anybody.  And you've got to know somebody in this business."  Did it really never occur to him that maybe his writing was awful?


It's like Waiting For Guffman, but sadder and real.  

I could have left after the 3rd time he had me read my side with a different person.  But I was absolutely mystified by this room of people.

I don't know why I'm writing about this really.  Halfway through writing this, I thought, "This is a ton of writing just so I can vent some frustration I had with this one audition.  And all I'm doing is putting this guy down."  

I suppose it comes from some source of feeling superior to the very existence of that room of people, but I think it's almost an attempt by me to ward off the possibility of such a future for myself.  It's as if by deriding it as much as I can I somehow might decrease the chances that I'll end up like James.  

"This is your Craft."

Andy roll in grass no more

Let me tell you about Mosquitoes.

They exist.

Venice

So we went to Venice this weekend; it was quite a blast. But expensive.

42 euros there

42 euros back

31.50 to split a hotel room 4 ways.

15 euro for a tourist dinner

18 euro for a day-buspass.

14 euro for a gondala ride split 6-ways

and various other charges for brownies, knick-knacks, and stuff

Venice seems entirely dependant on the tourist trade. I did not see a single automobile while I was there; buses and taxis are all boats. We got an 18-euro 24-hour buspass which lets us use the buses as much as we want for 24-hours. they go back and forth along the Grand Canal, which was quite beautiful. But it seems like almost every shop and store there is some sort of tourist-oriented gift shop, with tons of them selling Murano glass, a Venetian-style glass that's apparently very famous.

There's apparently some sort of weird business going on between some of the store owners. Several stores have a "50% off" sale that apparently is supposed to go on all year. The things inside are still obnoxiously overpriced, though, while selling the exact same things. Other stores have these "anti-50%" posters all over that call those stores out on using unfair tactics to gain business, and say that these stores use knock-offs and stuff.

We took a Gondala ride at night. Originally, we asked some gondoliers earlier what the rate was, and they said 100 euro for 4 people. Later, one guy said he would give us "student discount" and let all 6 of us ride for 100. We decided that maybe we should've just waited until the morning, when we could see everything, so we started walking away, and then another guy came up to us with the offer of 80 euro for all 6 of us. We figured that was a good enough deal, and so we took the gondola ride. It is dark and quiet during the Venetian night. He says there's very little crime, and not much happens at night. The Grand Canal was beautiful at night. And the next morning there was definitely too much traffic for it to be as enjoyable. We were usually completely by ourselves, but the next morning there were usually 2 or 3 gondolas going at a time one after the other.

The flash hit the mist from the water.

The Piazza San Marco was great at night. We tried sitting down in the middle of the plaza but got told by the police "It's not possible." So we sat on the side and drank Bellini, this very fruity Venetian-based bubbly drink.

I also felt lame for doing the tourist menu at this restaurant, but it was the cheapest option that let us try the most foods. Eh.

Street Art

Gelato Festival

Went to the first Gelato Festival in Florence.

Had something that tasted kind of popcorny, I can't remember it's name. Buonalatte? Buollanotte?

Had pineapple.

Had Nocciola, a hazelnutty flavor.

Had Sangria flavor. Also good.

Awesome Gelato

Duomo in Florence

Our class building. HAH


View from my window.


Look at this awesome closet. It sits above my desk, and at first I thought, "How the hell am I going to get up there? Do I have to stand on the desk? But then I pulled on the handle and it comes down.

My roommate Augustus (Gus)took us to this amazing Gelato place across the Arno river, where there are less tourists and cheaper food.

On approaching, I knew it was going to be awesome, because all the locals were there.
And it was.

I'll have to go back and take some pictures.

Pompeii apparently has this dog-hosting/adopting deal. There are just dogs free-roaming the ruins; they're all taken care of pretty well, it seems.



They have weddings in Pompeii, apparently. +2 Creeper points.


CASTLE in Naples


Some street art in Naples, I believe.


My room in Naples. Warm and fun-looking, ain't it?

More pictures, and Florence

ARROW'D



This guy was playing accordion on the bridge.


The anchovies and bread and potatoes I had at the free wine tasting in Rome.


The Coliseum.


Look at that enormous organ.

So, I took a nice train from Naples to Florence; It was rather expensive at 71 euros (about 100 dollars), but it was a pretty nice train. It had power plugs for every seat, so I could use my computer on the 3 hour train ride. I had to leave my seat at one point because I didn't realize that the tickets had seat numbers on them. I sat next to a lady and her daughter who were from Austin, Texas and both had Amazon Kindles.

Once I got here I tried to figure out how to use the bus system to get closer to the villa I'm staying at, but I gave up after one attempt, and decided to walk it instead. Not a fun time. The bag I'm carrying is very heavy, and it started grinding my shoulder hardcore, but I eventually found I could put my arms through the handles like a bookbag.

I'd heard about the hill leading up to the campus was rough, but I guess it wasn't a whole lot of change from the fact that I was carrying a load of stuff. It was hard either way. But, finally, I got in. No more traveling for...5 weeks or so.

But check out these snazzy closets! It's above my head, but I pull on this handle and it all comes down.

I need to go to the local store and get some shampoo. I kept expecting the hotels to have shampoo, so I haven't washed my hair since I got here, which would be for about 7 days. But there's something weird about the water here that kind of rinsed my hair, made it not feel greasy, but at the same time didn't clean it. I think something about the hardness of the water here.

Pictures I've wanted to Post

Long public transportation! It's like 3 linked buses on a rail.

Architecture of Rome, or Porn?

Words and pictures alone cannot describe how much this guy loved porn.

Pizza!

Bidets!

Pompeii

Wooo, after getting on the wrong train in Napoli (it only went one more stop before I had to get off), I found myself in...POMPEII!

Destroyed by Vesuvius 2000 years ago, it is another big city with a lot of crumbly ruins. Although, there are definitely a lot of renovated and pretty frescoes and architecture around.

So, I wandered around for a long time, took pictures, lots of pictures, but after a while they all started looking the same. I went into some fenced off areas that I'm guessing I wasn't supposed to go into, but hey, there wasn't anybody watching. I thought that maybe they didn't want me to mess up the grass, but if nobody was going in there, who was the grass for?

Picture of me frolicking in said-grass. Yes, I used the timed shoot function. Because I'm alone.


After I came back, I went to dinner at a place next to the one I went to last night. I don't know if they have something against tourists or possibly Asians (a clerk in the subway said Konichiwa to me today), but I got nearly no service. The guy working the door seated me, and from then on, none of the male waiters approached me, except one guy who gave me a menu after a few minutes. Everything else was done by the female hostess who was across from a table from me, so would've seen me the entire time. I thought maybe I was supposed to be more active as a patron, like, flagging down the waiter or something. But other people at least got menus. She came over and I ordered, and she was pretty nice, and I got my food, and I ate it. It was great. I also ordered some wine. I thought I was simply going to get a cup of wine. It turned out I got .375 L of wine, which is a small bottle of wine. It was nice wine. Went down very smoothly. Also, Italian wine is stronger than wine from America that I had before. It is 11% alcohol, while most wines I have seen in America are around 5%. That being said, I'm a little more wined up than I thought I was going to be. That explains this massive paragraph, because people who drink wine don't take time for the Enter button.


Vinum rosso della casa


Penne alla boscaiola



Prosciutto & Mozzarella. Look at that giant ball of mozzarella. MMMMMM



Note: I need to remember to take the picture before I start eating.

Well, time to diddle the hours away until I have to sleep/Go to Firenze/Florence!!!!!

Napoli/Fun town

So I rode the train into Napoli today. The entire time I was on the train people kept leaving the car I was on and going over to the next one. And my ticket didn't get checked for a very long time. So the entire time I thought I was in some free part of the train while everybody else was going to the nice part of the train that you get for paying.

Naples is definitely not the beautiful tourist spot that Rome is. It's much more "yeah, I'm kind of just a really big urban city that happens to have some nice architecture and churches from a long time ago." It's much more urban.

That being said, it seems to be also a bit more rough and tumble. First thing I saw out of the station was two cops fixing a fight between what looked like a hobo and another guy with a suitcase. Later I saw the tail end of three guys kicking an old woman's umbrella around. They were just yelling at each other after that. Some guy with his girlfriend also slapped the back of my head while I was looking at a street map.

I just kind of walked around and got lost, had some pizza. There are definitely a lot more quiet alleyways around here. Just window shopped at all these small places. Had a pastry.

What sucks is that internet usage at this hotel isn't free, like my Rome hotel. To use it, you have to buy drinks at the bar. So, I'm sitting here drinking a martini just so I can use the internet for an hour. I guess it's not that awful, but I'm going to see if I can figure out how to get the wireless up in my room.

Sessanta-sei.

EDIT: SUCCESS. I have downloaded software to hack the wifi access key and can now use it in my room. Impressionante!

The Vatican

So I took the metro to the Vatican City, today. The Rome Metro is pretty simple; It's a giant X, and Rome Termini is the central hub, just down the street from my hotel.

They've got great trains down there. Instead of posters everywhere, they have little television screens. And they've got the radio on when you're waiting for the tracks, so it's not that eerie silence. Plus, the trains don't have doors between them, like those double buses, except the entire train. It's awesome.

So I get to the Vatican and eat at this restaurant right in front of the Vatican City. They probably get a LOT of business. I had one of these combo plates with lasagna, potatoes, veal, and vegetables. And some wine. It was great.

Then I went into the Vatican Museum, which is essentially the Vatican.

The thing about the Vatican is that everyone wants to go to either the Sistine Chapel or St. Peter's Basilica. That being said, most people barely know or care that there's a ton of other really cool art from the Renaissance and ancient Egypt and some other time periods that's all housed at the Vatican, also.

Now, I'm one of those people. But, the Vatican knows this, so, the entire museum is set up like a freaking maze of art, frescoes, tapestries, sculptures, that ends with the Sistine Chapel at the end of the rainbow.

Unfortunately, I forgot to charge my camera after yesterday and was only able to take pictures until about halfway through the journey to the Chapel.

I guess I was able to look at the art more instead of just blazing through all of them and taking pictures. And you're not even supposed to take pictures in the Sistine Chapel, anyways. I probably would've tried to sneak one or two. The Sistine Chapel was pretty gorgeous looking, but the lights were really low, and it turns out everything's kind of far away and on the ceiling, so it's probably not the best view.

But, seriously, I wish I had pictures of St. Peter's Basilica. It is really one of the most jaw-dropping, magnificent, incredible buildings I have seen in my life. It is enormous. And it is gorgeous.

Above the altar is a stained-glass dove exploding out of sculpted clouds.

I don't think I've ever seen old art that awesome.

I came back on foot, and by this point, as a culmination of my past two days of walking, my feet were starting to feel awful. I switched to shoes at least, so it might've been better, but I was just getting sloppy. I started getting lost really easily. I ended up going all the way back to somewhere I came from because I was going West instead of East.

"Hey, why is there another river on this map?"

And I kept on thinking I was on one street but I really wasn't. Street signs are funny like that here; they have them on the sides of the buildings, not on posts on the street. And they're sometimes not there.

This guy tried to get me to give him 10 euros because he made a little friendship bracelet around my wrist. He said one loop is for luck and another is for...I can't remember. I probably should've just told him I didn't want a string bracelet as soon as he came up, because I knew he would want me to give him money after that. But I wanted to see where it was going, I guess. He said it was "his job." But I'm not giving someone 10 euros for tying a string around my wrist that most pre-teen girls probably do in their spare time. Especially because the smarmy small talk/compliments are clearly so driven towards one goal: "Oh, where are you from? America? Oh, you look Italian."

I look Italian.

I dropped my stuff off at the hotel and went out to dinner and decided that since this was my last night in Rome, I would stuff myself to the brim. AND I DID.

I bought something that lets me upload photos now, but I don't think I'm going to edit any of my last posts; I'll just put up things i found interesting in new posts.

Avete Forbici?

Ancient Rome has several badly-costumed Gladiators

Just went around Ancient Rome and Trastevere on foot, starting at about noonish.

My feet really hurt; I probably should've worn something besides flip flops, but I just love the feeling of open air on my feet. I can't stand socks and shoes, but I figured I'd get sore feet either way. Well, I'll try tomorrow.

I was looking for the safe in my room and couldn't find it.

I've been using Google Translate for all my translating needs.

So, I go up to the desk clerk and say, "C'è una cassetta di sicurezza?"

And she responds in a slew of Italian, to which I respond by kind of stammering and kind of wiggling my hands and shoulders. Then she tells me in English that I didn't have one in my room because it was right next to the desk, so there was always security.

So I went through the Ancient Forums, got tons of pictures of a bunch of old buildings, and I'm wondering whether these pictures are going to be exciting at all when I look at them later. The entire idea of taking pictures and sightseeing has never really appealed to me; so I'm not sure why I'm going along with the whole "walk around all day and take pictures of things you see," because it's definitely not as fun with only me by myself. It's not like I can take pictures of myself making Emperor poses on crumbling pedestals, at least not without enlisting the help of other tourists. I suppose the memories are good, but hell, it's not like I'm going to remember something incredibly profound with each photograph. I will look at them and probably say, "Oh yeah, I guess I was there. Didn't really remember much about it."

So, after taking pictures of a lot of old Roman buildings, I went to the Coliseum, where i heavily debated whether or not I wanted to wait 45 minutes and pay 12 euros to go inside somewhere where I've heard wasn't nearly as amazing as the inside that I've already seen dozens of pictures of. In the end, I decided I would because, hell, I'm in Rome and I should probably go see the sites like a good tourist, and I won't get a chance again, and I'll feel stupid if someone ever asks me if I went to the Coliseum in Rome and I have to say, "No, the line was too long and I didn't want to pay."

On the inside I bought a tiny 22 euro bronze gladiator. That was a debate, too, because that's about 30 dollars for something that's about as tall as my thumb. He was the only one I liked, because he was the only one who looked like he was about to attack, but he's got an axe, and I would've liked him to have a sword, but the only guys with swords were kind of just standing there, or raising the sword in victory. No, I want a gladiator that looks like he's two seconds away from splitting something in half.

Once I was finished there, the skies started turning grey and thunder was in the distance. Guys walk around selling umbrellas as soon as that happens. They feast on the flagging wills of hapless tourists. This one guy dressed up like a gladiator poked me with his sword asking me to take a photograph with him. I might've had I not known that they only do that so they can ask you for tips after.

I stood around near the Trajan Forum for a while, but then decided to duck into this little restaurant as soon as the storm hit the place. It was one of those storms that hits so fast but you know is going to be gone just as fast. But, while it was pouring outside, I looked around the place I was in, and discovered it was a wine tasting place! Lucky me!

I got seated, and as soon as I did, the waitress already brings out a plate of anchovies and potatoes and something meaty on a piece of bread. I was like, "Woah, what just happened, I didn't order this!"

Then two old Belgian ladies next to me tell me it's free, and that it was not just a restaurant, and not just a wine tasting place, but it was a FREE wine tasting semi-restaurant that was set up as a promotional venue for Rome's exports of wine and stuff.

Magic.

So I sampled one of their white wines and it was really nice wine. I'm not like, a connoisseur, but I could tell it wasn't shitty wine.

My standards just got raised.

After that, I started walking towards the Circus Maximus.

I thought it was going to be something like the Coliseum, or a Circus.

It's actually an enormous plot of gravel that goes in an oval.

They stopped having the Circus there a long time ago, apparently.

After that, I wandered across the Tiber to Trastevere! It's a much more residential part of town and much less touristy, although there are a few tourist spots such as what is apparently one of the oldest churches in town. I saw many more natives with their kids. Apparently there's supposed to be more street crime such as pickpocketing or purse-snatching over there, but I didn't ever feel like I was about to get mugged or anything. Although I looked behind me a bit more.

Then I came home across a bridge where a guy was playing accordion for change.

Tomorrow, the Vatican!

Day Due (WoAH!)

So I woke up promptly at 9:26 for the breakfast that ended at 9:30.

I realize some hotels in America probably serve breakfast to you with waiters, but I guess I haven't been to one of those before.

I didn't want to be rude so badly, I didn't know what to do when I was finished. I didn't want to just leave in case that would be rude. So I waited until another lady left to see if she did anything special. She didn't. But I still went to the little room where the food/waiters were and waved bye.

Day 1, still

I just got back from a brief walk of a few hours with my camera. I have a bunch of maps of places to go, like the ancient part, and the vatican, and stuff, but I think i'll hit that stuff tomorrow when I'm not so tired.

I didn't sleep on the plane, and I kind of dozed on the 2nd flight and the train, but overall, I haven't really had much rest. Last time I went to "sleep" was probably 10am yesterday US Eastern time, which makes me awake for about 29 hours. Not to mention carrying my bags feels like my spine is being misaligned. And I've spilled a lot of food on myself today. And I didn't put on deodorant. Overall, I'm kind of a gross mess. And I think I should turn in pretty early tonight.

I had some really good pizza. It had a hard-boiled egg on it.

I forgot to bring my camera cord. I'll try to find a way to upload photos, because I really want to show you guys this really creepy old guy who I found looking at street porn. He was WAY too excited about that street porn. By Street Porn, I mean, imagine those vendors who sell DVD's or handbags or incense on the street, but it's all porn DVD's instead.

Andy in Italy - Day 1 - Rome!

God what a long flight. Europe's far.

I watched Dwayne Johnson's "The Tooth Fairy" on the plane. It was spectacularly hokey, but in the best of ways.

Is it...
A: Sad
Or
B: Hilarious
..to watch a woman struggle to finish knitting something because she brought metal knitting needles with her

Funny accents! Although I’m sure I sound like an ass with my American accent.
French Guy on Phone: Eu, thzank yjeu fauerl coarling me.”

Nothing really happened with these people, but I sat near a gaggle of heavily-accented Southern ladies who were all accompanying what must've been one of those Southern Belle/princess types. Because it really seemed like one young rich girl with a bunch of old lady courtiers. I just like imagining a bunch of ladies stumbling around Rome.
Although I'll probably be doing a lot of stumbling today.

Bidets.

This old machinist who made the molds for car parts who worked in America for 28 years but in South America for 2 but is now retired and travels around and who was just on a cruise all around the Caribbean and says that they have very good beaches and has a very thick Spanish accent and thinks that there are great beaches in the Caribbean and thinks its silly how some of those Caribbean countries wanted independence so badly only to end up poor and told me not to eat too much pizza and that they have great beaches where he went on a cruise talked to me for a while on the plane.

A blog!? What are you doing, Andy?

For reasons that must be a splice between vanity and tourism-craziness, I have decided to blog about my brief excursion to Italy. I'll probably stop once the schooling starts up, but maybe not.

I'll probably spruce the layout up a little eventually. Isn't that something every blogger is obligated to say at least once?

Anyways.