Thursday, April 16, 2009

Right Now, Three Years Ago

Since I've been a little blue on account of exams lately (read: manic depressive and stressed to the point where it feels like my throat is closing off. Shout out to the folks at WebMD for the speedy diagnosis of sleep apnea and, of course, cancer. Actually, for shizzle I read this one sight that recommended doing calming activities, such as drinking. Thanks Dr. Nick!) Also it doesn't help that my uterus is currently scratching its way out of my body, I swear my uterine lining is attached via piercing scalpels. And then Afra's athlete's feet made me think about traveling so I decided to play a little game called "Where Was I Three Years Ago?" to cheer myself up. Thanks to my lack of technological prowess I couldn't turn off the date thinger on my camera so I now know exactly where I was this week, three years ago.

Tuscan countryside?? YEUUUUUUUCCCHH! Oh man, I am so glad I'm not there right now, because you know what I hate? Italian villas in the distance. Know what else I hate? Pasta, pizza, gelato, leather and impressive art. D-scusting. (This was the view walking down the country road from my hostel in an old villa outside of Florence. How cliche.)
Ugh. Too sunny. Too lovely. Too picturesque.
The pope is a d-bag anyway.

Actually, true story I got to Rome on Easter Sunday and was trying to make it down to the Vatican to see the Pope's Easter Hooplah because I obviously love Catholicism and crowds. So i get off the subway and I see this group of nuns (flock of nuns?) and I'm all like, oh, I'll just follow them, they're obviously going to church. They are NUNS after all. So I trail after these old biddies for freaking ever until I realize that they're not going to church, they've already been to church, and now I'm just following them on an afternoon stroll in their Sunday best. Excellent.

But at least I got to share these memories with my little brother...
Oh hey brother! Awkward much? I really enjoy that hair colour you're rocking. You died it yourself? You don't say.
And so god damn pleasant to be around. What a great travel companion. And such excellent fashion sense.
Speaking of, check out this little number: white polyester track suit much? So that morning we were going to St. Pete's and I says to him, I says, 'Reilly, there's a dress code. The pope doesn't like to see your knobby kneecaps so even though it's hot out, MAKE SURE YOU PACK A PAIR OF PANTS.' So we rock up to the gates and I says to him, I says, 'Reilly, where are your pants? Why don't you have PANTS?' And he says, 'PANTS? It's too damn HOT for PANTS!' So I was all, 'Go find some fucking PANTS because I'm not waiting in line just to get kicked out because you're too dumb to dress yourself.' So he comes back 15 minutes later wearing this getup and I'm like, 'Did you rob a seniors tour? Why would you get the jacket too?" "Uhh, so I MATCH, duh."
God, I'm so young. So aloof. So 'standing in front of the Trevi fountain and not writing exams' right now. So 'wearing black and orange like I'm a fucking pumpkin.' I must get my fashion sense from my brother.

But I shouldn't complain, after Italy was Greece and that place just. fucking. sucks.

Yeah, that definitely made me feel better. And now back to your regularly scheduled studying...

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