Let the happiness commence:
So Happy Monday everyone go forth and smile and be productive.
Ciao!
A Moveable Feast |
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Does this still count if I type it up on Sunday? I'm not sure. I think I found some good stuff this week. Let the happiness commence: GOOD BOOKS I have this goal to read a book a week. It seems like a reasonable enough goal for the amount of free time I have and all. The problem is that I read just about as fast as a sloth climbs a tree. I started this last weekend and I'm a little less than half way through. I consider my reading pace a problem because there's no way I'll survive college with a shred of sanity with how slow I read...but anyways...this is the first book I've read by Kurt Vonnegut and I'm a big fan of his style thus far. It feels so familiar every time I open it up I feel like I've known Vonnegut and this story forever. Probably because his writing seems effortless. He knows that complex issues don't always need complex words, that they can some how take away from the beauty of the subject and I love that.
So Happy Monday everyone go forth and smile and be productive. Ciao!
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Last Friday around 11 I decided to go out into town to walk around and take some pictures and then head to the park to waste my day away reading on a blanket in the shade. When I left the apartment I noticed how quite it was compared to the normal sounds coming from the various apartments and businesses nearby. But the town was so still. I shrugged it off and just kept walking towards the park. Almost less than a minute later though I was stopped in the middle of an intersection by a long stand selling shoes. I was so confused but then delighted that I stumbled upon the Friday Market. The town was so quiet because everyone was in the center of it at the market. The sale was expansive and went on for several blocks and then even flooded into the piazza. There were vendors selling local vegetables, fruits, cheeses, meats, breads, clothes, toys, craft supplies, furniture, decorations, cooking supplies and I'm sure a lot more that I missed. It was so alive and fun-little kids to the elderly could find something to do and buy there. By the time I made it to the park I realized I'd spent nearly an hour just walking around looking at everything the market had to offer. I just let myself get lost among all the vendors. That's one of the best parts about being over here I think-getting lost. It's so much fun to get caught up in someone elses world and way of life and just forget yours for a little bit. Stephen said it happens every Friday so I'll fersuree be there again. After the park I walked around taking pictures of some of my favorite parts of the town so far. Montichiari I'd say is smaller than Elkton but it feels big because towns are so close together and so many people live here. Anyways, here are the pictures: There ya have it. The best views of Montichiari that I've found so far. It really is beautiful here, I love it.
Ciao! So we're back from Milan early mostly because we only found two things to do: the Duomo (De-wow-mo) and the mall-one of the worlds oldest in fact. The day was disappointing though because the city simply isn't all it's cracked up to be. There's graffiti everywhere and trash, and everything seems to cost a bajillion euros. We did have a hostel booked, which we checked into in the morning but by 3pm when are day had come to a swift and rather unexpected end Stephen and I decided that the best and most comfortable thing to do would be to cancel the room and head back to Montichiari (Monty-key-are-e*). We had to pay for the room, but that was my fault because I didn't purchase the "cancellation insurance" when I booked the room. The ride back was even more of an adventure because the GPS took us home a different way then when we came and that mostly meant through towns and back roads (in towns there are rarely stop lights, just traffic circles, we probably went around a good 10 on the way home. If I never see another traffic circle again in my life I'd be happy forever). Stephen got really frustrated but nbd, we made it home in one piece and without a flat tire or a break down so that's a positive. All in all, I'm happy we went even if there is a three month wait to see "The Last Supper" and even if the hostel didn't have A.C. like the internet promised, or even if we got lost and frustrated and hot. Even though all these disappointing, frustrating things happened I'm still not the teenage boy on the metro today playing music with his sisters for money or the mom outside the Duomo pleading for money because she can't feed her kids, remember guys, even mistakes are adventures, and even though this one seemed like a big mistake at times it just reminded me of how lucky I am. No matter how much time I get here be it three months, six months, or a whole year I'm just thankful I get time here because it's flipping my world upside down but in the best Jack Johnson way possible. So, enough with this serious stuff. Enter: our day in pictures... *roll that "r" like nobody's business and you'll officially be Italian Alright, now it's time for me to hit the hay. It's 10:10 here and I'm poop tired. I was listening to Maroon 5 when I started the post but now all I can here are the cars outside the apartment, I swear Italy never sleeps. I love Maroon 5 and a lot of other bands that come on the radio-Stephen was making fun of me for it all day because my music taste isn't eclectic enough. What's your opinion? Mainstream? or garage band hits? Lemme know in the comments! I think there's a reason we have mainstream music, like, there's reason why it appeals too so many people so it must be good*. Or maybe that's just me being a blind-folded fish in a big school.
*For clarification Lady Gaga, Katy Perry (and more) are not good. They are one hit wonders who I hope fade out quickly. Ciao! Good night from Italy :) A few bizarre things on Italy and the past few days: I’ve been feeling like this \/ for the past few days so I haven’t done much but I wanted to write a few things down that I’ve found pretty interesting. On Italian Pizza Doppio (large) is the same size as an individual pizza in America It’s delicious and you will eat more than half of it and still be hungry…saaaaaay what? On trying to find Super Famila (the super-market) I could have gone to “Popy’s Fruit” or the Central Market both less than 60 seconds away but the thought of not being around something semi-American freaked me out so opted to walk much farther than I had anticipated just to pretend I knew what I was doing in a foreign grocery store…next time I’m going to see Popy. I walked probably two miles* and got a wicked farmer’s tan while carrying one overflowing reusable grocery bag. I had to keep reminding myself that “even mistakes are adventures” because it was really hot and like the super intelligent person I am, I wore jeans. But I was successful in not looking like an idiot or getting all flustered and I stayed under budget so I suppose this is a Charlie Sheen WINNING! moment? In Italian grocery stores you have to wear a plastic glove before you touch any of the produce. Also, all the produce is assigned a number so when you weigh it you have to press the number for whatever produce you’re buying and a sticker prints out that you put on either the produce itself or the plastic bag it’s in so when you get up to the register the cashier just scans the item. I think this is uber efficient and prevents any price disagreements. Those smart Italians, lemme tell ya. *I need a bike. Everyone has a bike here and that’s not a terrible generalization. Three year olds to 90 year olds ride bikes all over. Italians are serious about not using too much harmful energy and not wasting. I think that’s cool. We’re headed to Milan on Saturday and staying in Hostel Galla. Stephen made me book the hostel and figure out what we’re going to do (“because-I’m-a-grown-man-and-too-busy-to-take-care-of-this-crap”-said Stephen multiple times when I asked him why he couldn’t do it-basically I’m an international travelling pro now)…so, naturally I googled it. I’ve decided we’re going to scale the Duomo, see The Last Supper (by Stephen’s request), and go shopping because even Stephen agreed that’s a must-do in Milan. I’ve heard Milan is more city-like than other northern Italian. I’m excited to see how a city here compares to the cities back home, but mostly I’m excited to go shopping…with Stephen’s money.
Anyways, I’m going to stop being a wimp and take some pictures of Montichiari to post. It’s really pretty and the juxtaposition between old and new is something I don’t think I’ve ever seen in the States. I mean, when you look out from a church built centuries ago onto a town probably even older and then notice a factory and a highway just beyond the town it reminds you how old and how much culture Itlay has compared to the 300 years America’s been around to develp. We’re just stretching our wings and they’ve been painting over frescos for hundreds years…totes cray, cray. Ciao amiche! So I tried writing two other posts about the past few days here because we’ve done some pretty cool things but my brain decided to not work with me today and a cool post isn’t happening, thus, I will introduce hopefully what will become a series that will keep me on top of this blogging thing: If it makes me happy Monday*. Every Monday I want to make a post of things I encountered in real life and on-line that made me happy and smile in hope that it will brighten all of your (no doubt) dreary Mondays back to work because, let’s face it, nobody likes Mondays. And, if they do we call them crazy and exile them until Tuesday. So without further ado, let’s begin: *The assonance in this title makes me happy Is this not the cutest baby elephant you’ve ever seen? I mean, just look at his little ‘fro! This is the kind of questions I ask myself daily I watched this for the first time two nights ago and lemme tell you it was fantastic even though it broke away from the book a few times (I loved the books. I read them throughout high school and I’m still waiting for my letter to Hogwarts) Speaking of Harry Potter, read this in their own voices and it gets even funnier This book. It took me a while to get through even though it’s super short (I have reading induced ADHD) Here's my favorite quote from the book: "The really important kind of freedom involves attention, and awareness, and discipline, and effort, and being able truly to care about other people and to sacrifice for them, over and over, in myriad petty little unsexy ways, everyday. That is real freedom." I’m 99% sure manatees are deadly but now I want one to motivate me! Oh, and last but certainly not least: Mindy Kaling. Meh gurl Beth gave me her book for graduation and it’s really good. She’s so self-actualized and funny (not funny up to par with Tina Fey’s book but entertaining and truthful enough to keep you interested. Plus, I think she’d make a pretty cool role model) Hopefully you can go tackle your day with a new sense of vigor and amusement or just a renewed sense that I’m cray cray. Either way, leave what makes you happy lately in the comments. I’d love to know!
And now I'm off to do yoga. Ciao! Phew, this past week has been a whirlwind of crazy adventures. I’ll try to recall everything that has happened but my tired brain is bound to forget all the witty remarks I’ve been thinking up for the last seven days. So, here we go: Saturday evening to Sunday evening was all travelling just to get to Italy. Stephen and I were both wiped out by the time we made it to his apartment (I want to record a video of it to post here so everyone can take the grand tour!). The trip from the airport was largely uneventful except for the fact of witnessing Italian driving, which proves as true as the stereotype. Their cars are equipped with both brakes and blinkers but I’ve seen them seldom use both. So instead of recounting my nauseating ride I’ll tell a few truths of international traveling I learned on the way here and on the way to Poland: 1) Switching time zones going east will make you lose a day of your life: I left Philadelphia at 5:40pm and landed in Frankfurt around 7:20am. A nine hour flight somehow took more than 12 hours and I was too groggy to recount how. Losing hours of my life on a plane is definitely not the way I want to go. 1) If you opt for the vegetarian meal on the plane you will get your food before everyone else and your seat mate* will stare at you like a ravenous bear: We got two different meals on the plane (dinner and breakfast) and I didn’t realize I was given the vegetarian option until the second meal when I got a wrap filled with lettuce for breakfast (thanks mom). When the flight attendant gave me dinner she did it discretely so the girl sitting next to me didn’t awake too suddenly from her deep bear-like hibernation but rather slowly eased herself to a conscience enough state to realize that I was eating and she wasn’t. The second time a new flight attendant gave me breakfast but made a lot more noise about it. Our exchange went something like this: (*she was German so I’ll try to relay her accent as best as possible, but where I fail just try to fill in the blanks*) The flight attendant: “Eez thiz your füd?” Me in my head: Oh, shoot lady look what’ve you’ve done, it has awoken. Me out loud: “Umm what do you mean?” The flight attendant: “Eeeeh. I beleeve zee vege-…eeh, vege-…eh….” Me out loud: “Yup that’s mine. It’s mine. I swear.” (Initiate Neanderthal like grabbing) Me in my head: “STOP STARING!” My seat mate this time darted like a bullet from her slumber and I swear she growled. *As a side note, when boarding the plane I got to my seat first (I had an aisle seat) and had to get up for my seat mate to get to her window seat. I was okay with this and actually very excited to be sitting next to someone my age so maybe we could chat but as soon as she plopped down in her seat she whipped out her ear buds and slammed the window blind shut. Hey girl, thanks for killing my dreams of us being besties and ruining my view of the night sky. (Insert a Ryan Gosling meme…or just Ryan himself) 3) You will not get a good night’s sleep, in fact you may never sleep at all: This is self-explanatory 4) You will welcome terra firma with more zeal and vigor than previously known…and possibly even kiss the ground: Okay, so I didn’t actually kiss the ground but I might as well have. My sinuses don’t react well to constant pressure changes (I just discovered this, this week) and so black pavement has never been more inviting than it was getting off the various planes. Alright, now a segway into Monday. I slept like a baby on Sunday night but was rudely awakened to go get on yet another plane for Poland. In truth, I was not initially excited to do this. I wanted to lie in bed for the next year and only face the light of day on my terms so getting on another plane didn’t seem appealing but we were out the door by noon and headed towards the airport in Milan. I won’t bore you with the details so fast forward five hours later>>>>>>>>>>>We landed in Poland and made our way to the Dizzy Daisy Hostel. The hostel was really cool. I like the community instantly created there. You have to wash your own dishes at breakfast and eat on sofas next to people from all over so you’re nearly forced out of the norm to communicate with people with a 50/50 chance you’ll get your point across. Also, the desk help was what I assumed (after meeting Polish friends on our second night) college students so they were eager to learn, listen, and help just as much as we wanted to. The beds weren’t fantastic but we came back so tired anyways that it didn’t matter. Day 1: This was only dinner since we got there in the evening, but Monday night I got sick so that seems significant enough to mention. I think it was from being not eating very much at dinner and the new environment. Once I got something to eat the next morning I felt great and could barely remember feeling poorly. Day 2: This was my favorite day of the trip. We went to Auschwitz in the morning and this trip made me love the Polish. The ones we met were hospitable and amiable and wanted to talk with us. Granted our tour guides were being paid by us and the friends we made are majoring in American Studies at their university but I nonetheless felt very welcome. I could write a lot about Auschwitz but I’m sure my words would never do the experience justice. I’ve been to the Holocaust museum but the hate and fear Stephen and I felt at Auschwitz, Birkenau, and Schindler’s Factory is unparalleled. Like, you just don’t get it till you’ve been there to see how real it really was. A cool thing about our tours though was our tour guide. He was exceptionally stoic. He took on this “come-hither” look in the most non-sensual way that simply said “Come look at me! Come look at how stoic I am!” I never thought someone could make drinking water look stoic but he did it. I’m still living in outright amazement and it’s been two days. Tuesday evening we went into the city again for dinner and that’s where we met Remy and Magda. They are lovely. We met them on the street when all four of us thought we were waiting for some famous soccer star. It was raining and no one was coming so Remy suggested we go get a drink. I’m 99% positive Stephen said yes before Remy completed his offer. According to Stephen you apparently follow the people making that offer, and I’m just glad we did. Getting to talk to native Poles was so interesting and I learned a lot about their country and my own. They were both so funny and natural; I think we hit it off immediately. We sat outside in what Magda translated as the Main Square for probably about 6 hours. Polska, Poland’s soccer team, was playing that night so the whole town was out to watch the game. Americans get riled up about football but these fans made the whole city shake it seemed like. Their pride and passion was incredible. After the game some Brits in town came to where we were and Stephen started talking to them. In the most polite way all I can say about them is that they were drunk and rude. Also, I couldn’t understand a word they were saying-honestly, I just nodded and smiled and tried to laugh when I thought they said something funny. It was obvious that the people around us were enjoying them even less than us but they were there only long enough to have one drink. Almost right after that a table of French guys sat down. They definitely made up for their British counterparts. They were quieter for one, and nicer for two. Also, one told me “Your French eet iz so beauteeful. I wish for you to only speek in zee French.” I know that’s not true because when I speak in French I sound like a frozen robot but when a French guy tells you to speak in French you speak in French, gosh darnit! They also hit on me hard core but they were also hitting on the waitress and probably would have flirted with Stephen if he put on a wig. All in all though they were pretty amusing and made me realize the only high school subject I may actually ever use, or at least use the most of, is French-which is fine by me. Day 3: This was the slowest day I believe probs because we got back to the hostel around 1:30 the night before. I was up and at ‘em at 9 like Stephen wanted us to be but we didn’t end up leaving the hostel until after 10 because the king needed more sleep. I like punctuality. I always have and I always will, it’s just my style so next time you set a wake-up time Stephen you better get up because I surly will be. After I successfully navigated our way to the Castle Wawel/Cathedral (which might I add was rather anti-climatic. I mean we didn’t even know we were even there until after we left so I don’t think we appreciated it as much as wanted to in the first place). After that we stopped for breakfast and then Stephen ever so patiently walked with me, all the way out of Krakow, to Schindler’s Factory which was a huge disappointment. I was expecting like the real deal, same building face and all but basically there was a plaque and in one room his desk. It was an adventure though and our (undeclared in the Beers-Worley-Beers Fiscal Year 2013 meeting) mantra for this year is “even mistakes are adventures” which is true I think in every sense. Day 3: This was the slowest day I believe probs because we got back to the hostel around 1:30 the night before. I was up and at ‘em at 9 like Stephen wanted us to be but we didn’t end up leaving the hostel until after 10 because the king needed more sleep. I like punctuality. I always have and I always will, it’s just my style so next time you set a wake-up time Stephen you better get up because I surly will be. After I successfully navigated our way to the Castle Wawel/Cathedral (which might I add was rather anti-climatic. I mean we didn’t even know we were even there until after we left so I don’t think we appreciated it as much as wanted to in the first place). After that we stopped for breakfast and then Stephen ever so patiently walked with me, all the way out of Krakow, to Schindler’s Factory which was a huge disappointment. I was expecting like the real deal, same building face and all but basically there was a plaque and in one room his desk. It was an adventure though and our (undeclared in the Beers-Worley-Beers Fiscal Year 2013 meeting) mantra for this year is “even mistakes are adventures” which is true I think in every sense. And on day four we’re back showered and full so to wrap up this ridiculously long post I’ll leave you with the things we learned about traveling, each other, and hostels: Hostels: BRING YOUR OWN TOWELS. I’m not sure how both of us didn’t realize this but we were drying ourselves off with extra clothes all week , so that was gross. Also, I forgot an entire day’s worth of clothes so yay for rewearing clothes and feeling like a hobo. (remember, even mistakes are adventures!) Traveling: use travel size liquids because Europeans are sticklers on this. Stephen had to throw away all his hygiene products and I had to get rid of my nice detangler. I was so frustrated because in the Italian airport we had to go through security twice and even then they were picky. Also, play nice because everyone is tired, grumpy, hungry, and probably has a headache so for the time being refrain from sarcasm and mockery…and LOUD NOISES (if anyone read that in their Ron Burgundy voice we can be best friends forever). Each other: Stephen is never serious unless he’s tired so never take him seriously. And I’m the socially awkward penguin that everyone loves and a “scared turtle” which is like this constipated look I get when someone talks to me in another language and I don’t know what they are saying. 100% of the time their look is averted to Stephen so 100% of the time the look is successful. Please feel free to try it in your next awkward moment. If you’re still reading CONGRATULATIONS! If not I understand. I'll try to blog more so posts aren't this long but I'm not promising anything. Ciao! |
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