The good, the bad, & the ridiculous

Hello, mid-April.  Where did you come from?

I’ve been told, time and time again, that this year would absolutely fly.  But somehow, the arrival of April’s flavor of the month at Grom gelateria (inevitably something involving hazelnuts and therefore off-limits) hit me like a speeding vespa.  Don’t get me wrong, the seventy-degree sunshine is more than welcome to hang out... but April? I repeat...Aaaapril?

Other things that call for celebration? 

The good

This week we closed the grammar books and bid forever farewell to our language school!  No more early mornings spent battling prepositions or listening to hilarious recordings with our sassy fashionista of an Italian teacher.  I’ll miss how much the language school teachers adore us, constantly baking us Funfetti cupcakes and complimenting our open-toed sandals. Oh wait... that last sentence is a complete fabrication. Soooo I guess I’m just a tad ecstatic to be finished. Donezo. Fatto.

Last weekend, Adair and I went jet-setting--I mean, bus riding--throughout the South of France.  Nice was possibly one of the prettiest cities that I have ever seen.  There are colorful, glowing Buddha sculptures (not usually my style, but entertaining nonetheless) standing tall above the old, architectural paradise.  The city is exactly as it appears in a Matisse painting.  After perusing the streets and stocking up on fresh strawberries from the open-air market, we plopped ourselves down on the beach where we sunbathed like goddesses.  Adair left the sand as a bronzed beauty and I called it quits with a shin-burn and near sun-poisoning experience. Typical.

Dad, an art gallery in the
South of France?
Who knew?!

The crazy in the water is Adair. Have fun--My feet and I will watch you from here!

Oh so that's why people take Organic Chem!

In Eze, we battled a bit of fog by touring Galimard, a famous 
French perfumery.  I learned that I do not have what it takes to be a “nose” ... my sense of smell is just not strong enough for that. On the up-side, I can cross that off my list of possible career paths!  Even better, I now know what Leonardo DiCaprio smells like. Smokin’ h-o-t. As if I didn’t already know that...

A little foggy!

Eze

The new wheels.

In Monaco, Adair and I set out in search of our future hubbies/suga daddies. Consequently, I spent a significant amount of time people-watching outside of the Monte Carlo Casino. The cars that are parked out front are strategically placed based on maker.  Mercedes and Ferrari were certainly favored.  


And the big-spenders were easy targets. 

Key words: 

Male. 

60+. 

Balding. 

Sweater vest.
Leggy, model-like, good luck charm  

In front of the casino, on the hunt for 90-year-old kabillionaires.

Bird of paradise, my fave flower, duh!

On our final day in the French Riviera, we explored the beach-village of Antibes where I ate a divine lavender-flavored gelato (lavender’s a flower. i don’t know how that works, but when in Antibes, give it a shot) and put down the initial deposit for my yacht.  Ky, we're going half-sies, right?

The bad

Unfortunately, the week after my lavish, lifestyles-of-the-rich-and-famous vacation, rapidly became a "Coke week." 

Meaning?

Sweater-weather, moodiness, tattle-tales, senior class schedules, language exams, bike-bell thieves, and no time at all to run off my stress! As hard as I try to avoid the sugary goodness of a good, Coca-cola, there is nothing that can raise my spirits like a glass of the bubbly stuff.  So a coke week it was.

The ridiculous

(1) A cultural trip to the Opera with Holy Cross. Which Opera? La Divina Commedia.  I read the English translation of Dante’s Inferno during high school, so I figured that I would at least have a solid background before the show.  


However, after seeing this advertisement (and immediately sending it to my fellow AP English nerds) I had my doubts. Things I don’t doubt? How appalled Dante Alghieri would be to see his poem recounted with fog machines, electric guitars, and provocative dancers adorned in sequined-diapers.




(2) I am at the apartment alone with Oscar and Lorenzo.  Lorenzo is Oscar’s super polite, round, freckle-faced friend.  I make the mistake of leaving the safety and serenity of my room for a glass of orange juice in the kitchen.  Unfortunately, this requires crossing the living room where the boys are watching a movie.  Oh wait. They’re not watching a movie. The movie... "American Pie"... is currently frozen on a scene where the pretty, blonde is standing there topless.  The pair of thirteen-year-olds are similarly frozen, eyes glued to the twins. 

Needless to say, all parties were embarrassed. I returned to my room, donned a turtleneck, wrapped a scarf around my neck, and hid under the covers of my blanket, where only Zac Efron could console me. Okay, maybe it was a Zac Efron movie, but still. Those blue eyes and rock-hard-abs can comfort me any day of the week.

(3) I’m sweating like a maniac on the elliptical machine, jamming out to this awesome new workout mix.  I have twenty minutes to go and nothing better to do so I'm people-watching... Gotta check out the silly workout-wear that the Italians have decided to show up in today.  


Down in front of me, however, there’s something far more outrageous going on. A woman is sleeping... head tilted, mouth open, sleeping...on the bike-machine.  You have to wonder what has prompted her to do this. Miss, go home. There’s no need for you to sit in the gym if you’re too tired to bike. Those foot pedals don’t look particularly conducive to a sound sleep anyway! Next time, I promise to be camera-ready!


Until then, mi mancate!  Baci <3

In like a leone; out like an agnello

Aside from a few more textbooks and a few less layers of clothing, my ridiculous life is pretty much the same.  

Today, Nina and I opted to read our schoolbooks on the picnic table outside after lunch because it was far too nice to be cooped up indoors.  We donned our sunglasses, plopped ourselves side-by-side, and started in on what had to be done.  She finished her geography within 3 minutes and could not understand for the life of her why I wasn’t done yet.  I had to show her the number of pages that Boccaccio was forcing me to read for the day and she responded with a near heart attack... Oh to have the homework of a third grader again...

Me & Signor Bangi

But let’s be honest, I can’t complain.

 Last weekend I did something that I’ve been dying to do since arriving in Italy: a horseback-riding and wine-tasting trip in Chianti.  Anna, Lauren, Rosemary (who studies in Bologna) and I hit the horses, bright and early, Saturday morning. 

The combo of me and Bangi the horse, must have screamed “riding experience” because the two of us comprised the caboose of the group.  Oh Bangi.  Anyhow, we made a great pair and, speaking on behalf of good, old Bangi, I’d say we had a pretty awesome time together--me, gazing deep beyond the Tuscan hills with the click-clack of horseshoes below, and he, wondering why the hell he got stuck with the chick that eats a gelato a day.

Holdin' up the rear!

(Side note: The doubters won. I may have given up gelato for lent, but after a few weeks, I had to give up lent for gelato.)

Donata, the horse trainer was quite impressed with my ability to deter Bangi from chowing down on the grass (Sorry pal) and to speed him up when the going got rough.  Refusing to believe that I never took lessons, she made me feel glorious. Adding to my self-confidence, she told me that I should definitely return for private lessons for the next few months. Yup, look at me. I’m that good at horseback riding. Can you say “on top of the world?” That is, until Lauren burst my bubble and told me that Donata gave her the exact same spiel while she was riding. What a cruel trick, Donata, that’s just plain rude.

This one's for you, Uncle Ken!

This past weekend I returned to Cinque Terre, this time for some intense, off-road hiking. Trails? No need. We charged over rocks, jumped down hills, shimmied around gates, and enjoyed some pretty impressive views before drowning our scratched-up legs in the Mediterranean for some antiseptic alla Mother Nature. 

That’s all for now!  I’ll try my hardest to send this springtime weather home.  To make things fair, however, anyone with access to a CVS should probably send bucketfuls of chocolate cadbury eggs to those less fortunate! Baci <3