12:32 AM, GMT+1
A week ago, my neighbor Claudio invited me to his hometown of Brescia to show me around. He also invited me to lunch with his parents. How could I ever refuse food?
I hopped on an 8:15 AM train to get there, and he picked me up and drove me around the place.
It was incredible there, and I felt, truly felt, like I was in Italy. He took me to a small castle in Brescia where he used to study, and he knew every room and such in there. It wasn't anything like the Castello or the Duomo here, but it was somehow even better. It had a feel of... well, of Italy. It's hard to describe.
He also took me to a little church that was stunning on the inside, near his house. Its walls and ceilings were painted, and it had a beautiful altar. And I lit a candle for my family.
Anyway, we went to his house afterwards, and his parents were more than happy to cook for me. His mom kept shoving food in front of me (she cooked about four pounds of meat for me alone) and his dad kept shoving wine in front of me. It was great, and truly one of the most fun experiences I've had while being here. Not to mention genuine.
As far as this week goes, I've been holeing up in the library here in the Collegio and studying for finals. Hooray. I'll post one last time after my last final on Tuesday. For now, Ciao, Arrivederci.
Sunday, December 14, 2008
Saturday, December 6, 2008
Snow, turkey, and Inter Milan.
12:18 AM, GMT+1
It snowed last Friday. It was cool. For someone who's never been in snow before, well, that's super-exciting. We built snowmen, romped in the white fields, and hucked snowballs at each other.
But seriously. Two days prior, we went to San Siro. This was a pilgrimage for me. It was like my Mecca. Inter Milan was playing Panathinaikos (team from Athens), and it was one of the most fun (and coldest) experiences of my life. The Panathinaikos fans showed up in force. It 
was pretty unbelievable. I ate a sliced hot dog before the game, too, and contemplated a beer, but I was so cold that I didn't think introducing liquids into my body was a very good idea.
Anyway, these crazy Greeks were rocking the stadium every time they would cheer. When they would cheer, it looked like a wave was rippling through their entire section because they were all jumping up and down. The Inter fans didn't put on a very good showing. Maybe that's why Ibra and their team lost.
Thursday was Thanksgiving, and Brittany and I had found a restaurant run by a Texan that offered a full Thanksgiving meal. It was... interesting, to say the least. Many of the materials were improvised. For instance, I've never had a blueberry-cranberry sauce for my turkey. It wasn't bad, it just was not what I was expecting at all.
This past week has been pretty uneventful too. I'm just ready to go home... changed my seat so I'm next to Ms. Samantha Robeano on the flight home, so I can harrass her for ten hours before we actually make it down. Yay! Unfortunately, I have a paper and four finals to get through before I actually do that...
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
Did someone spray-paint our soccer field- oh my god it's snowing.
12:26 AM, GMT+1
That's exactly what I thought to myself when I woke up Monday morning. There was this weird cold stuff on the ground outside. Never seen it before in my life. We just have earthquakes and fire in SoCal.
Other than that, nothing new. Going to the Inter-Panathinaikos game tomorrow, and I still haven't decided who I'm rooting for. And we apparently have snow this weekend... weird.
Time to curl up with a bottle of warm Nesquik, Elf, and... company.
Oh yeah. We watched The Three Musketeers yesterday in the big cinema in the Collegio. The Italians loved it-- yay for Keifer Sutherland and S.re Chris O'Donnell.
That's exactly what I thought to myself when I woke up Monday morning. There was this weird cold stuff on the ground outside. Never seen it before in my life. We just have earthquakes and fire in SoCal.
Other than that, nothing new. Going to the Inter-Panathinaikos game tomorrow, and I still haven't decided who I'm rooting for. And we apparently have snow this weekend... weird.
Time to curl up with a bottle of warm Nesquik, Elf, and... company.
Oh yeah. We watched The Three Musketeers yesterday in the big cinema in the Collegio. The Italians loved it-- yay for Keifer Sutherland and S.re Chris O'Donnell.
Sunday, November 23, 2008
I would walk 500 miles. On a freeway. In 1 celsius weather.
9:18 PM, GMT+1
I went to go see Benny Benassi (he's a big techno-artist, for those of you unfamiliar) this Thursday. He was having a free concert, and, well, this was just one of those times where I figured it was something I really couldn't pass up.
I left with a friend last Wednesday, and we first got into an aperitivo at a club called Old Fashion for free. An Aperitivo is like a snack buffet, kind of. From there, we high-tailed it to Porta Romana, where the Benassi concert was being held.
We got lost several times, getting different directions from the 8 Italians we asked.
Okay, Italy. Maybe it's time you got some REAL street signs, instead of posting barely-visible ones on the walls of buildings.
We got there in the end, and there was a literal MOB of people in front of the place. Stands to reason, though... but this was midnight, and we were tired. We cheated, pushed, and elbowed our way to the front of the line, finally got in.
Only to find out that there was hardly anyone actually in the club at that moment. We said hello to some friends, then Brandon asked the big black bouncer what time Benassi was showing up.
"Alle quattro," was his answer.
Yeah. No. We got out of there at one, and heard from friends later that he never showed at four. Hey, if I wasn't getting paid, I probably wouldn't do it either.
We had to walk home, although we had the chance to admire the area we were in. It was quiet, wide, and actually very pretty, considering it was Milan. I think if I had to, I would end up living there.
The walk was uneventful, except for where we decided to stroll on the autostrade (freeway) to get home. But we did. It was cold.
I am most likely going to see an Inter- Palathinaikos Champion's League game at San Siro on Wednesday. Yay! Anyone who wants stuff from San Siro better tell me now.
I went to go see Benny Benassi (he's a big techno-artist, for those of you unfamiliar) this Thursday. He was having a free concert, and, well, this was just one of those times where I figured it was something I really couldn't pass up.
I left with a friend last Wednesday, and we first got into an aperitivo at a club called Old Fashion for free. An Aperitivo is like a snack buffet, kind of. From there, we high-tailed it to Porta Romana, where the Benassi concert was being held.
We got lost several times, getting different directions from the 8 Italians we asked.
Okay, Italy. Maybe it's time you got some REAL street signs, instead of posting barely-visible ones on the walls of buildings.
We got there in the end, and there was a literal MOB of people in front of the place. Stands to reason, though... but this was midnight, and we were tired. We cheated, pushed, and elbowed our way to the front of the line, finally got in.
Only to find out that there was hardly anyone actually in the club at that moment. We said hello to some friends, then Brandon asked the big black bouncer what time Benassi was showing up.
"Alle quattro," was his answer.
Yeah. No. We got out of there at one, and heard from friends later that he never showed at four. Hey, if I wasn't getting paid, I probably wouldn't do it either.
We had to walk home, although we had the chance to admire the area we were in. It was quiet, wide, and actually very pretty, considering it was Milan. I think if I had to, I would end up living there.
The walk was uneventful, except for where we decided to stroll on the autostrade (freeway) to get home. But we did. It was cold.
I am most likely going to see an Inter- Palathinaikos Champion's League game at San Siro on Wednesday. Yay! Anyone who wants stuff from San Siro better tell me now.
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
"Dimmi. Dimmi. Dimmi! WHAT DO YOU WANT?!"
11:32 PM, GMT+1
We heard that particular phrase when we walked into a Burger King in Rome so Britt could buy fries-- how American. "Dimmi" in Italian means "tell me". You'll hear it all the time from cashiers. So after we ordered, the cashier was speaking to the couple behind us, who were not paying attention in the slightest bit. He decided to get their attention another way.
Unfortunately, they spoke neither Italian nor English. They were French... and quicker than lightning, the cashier switched over to French to take their order.
Okay. When it's at the point where the McDonald's cashiers speak at least three languages and you can only speak one, it's time to re-evaluate your life.
This weekend we went to Rome, if you haven't figured that out yet. I finished midterms last week and caught the 11 AM train out of Milan, effectively using the last of my Eurail pass. Why Rome? Well, Britt told me she and her class were going to be there. Why not? My travel pass was going to expire soon anyway. May as well go see a pretty place.
I had a hostel booked, and after the 4 1/2 hour train ride, I hunted for a map (which I am framing in gold for helping me navigate Rome the ENTIRE trip), and went to my hostel. Wasn't bad, and cost me like 10 Euro for the night. Afterwards, I went to go meet Britt at her hostel, and got to say hello to people I hadn't seen in awhile, like Erica.
I chose to keep my valuables with Britt in the hotel (which she was staying at with her entire class of like 50 people), and left it in the safe of the room she shared with her Florence roommate Stephanie. My backpack I carried with me-- never know when you might need something. And I packed light anyway.
We went to go get some food at 5:30, because we were going to be taken to a private tour of the Sistine Chapel at like 7:30 PM. I tagged along-- thanks again, Britt. How many people get to sit on the floor of the Sistine Chapel? Not many-- and not for long. But we did. And I had great portions of the place explained to me. Although I still think Michelangelo should have researched what a whale looked like before he ended up drawing an oversized bass next to Jonah. But I got to experience firsthand a Rab Hatfield lecture. According to the Syracuse folks, Hatfield is the equivalent of Chuck Norris in the art department.
Then it was back to the hotel at like 9:45. I was just going to grab my stuff, but I stayed a little longer in order to say goodnight and all that. Stephanie turned on the TV, and a movie called "The Brothers Solomon" was on. It was in Italian. I watched a little bit of it... and then woke up the next morning. Midterms really took it out of me. And yes, I passed out in their hotel room.
After waking up, we decided to have breakfast. AKA I mooched off of the free breakfast the hotel provided for its customers. It was awesome! First time I had eggs for breakfast since orientation.
We had a bed-and-breakfast waiting for us for Saturday night, so we headed over there after breaking fast. It might have been the best experience I've had with an overnight room. If anyone is ever in Rome, I highly recommend it- Diocleziano B&B. It's only like five minutes from the train station.
The rest of our weekend passed by in a touristy way. Spanish Steps, Trevi Fountain, the like. But on Sunday, we got to see two things: Porta Portese, which is the biggest outdoor market in Italy, and the Italian National We're-The-Shit day.
In other words, the army rolled out their copters, tanks, tents, battlefield computers, planes, and had an airshow going. It was cool- planes were flying overhead, doing the smoke-thing in the colors of the Irish flag.
Then the train strike prevented me from going home that night, and I had to stay yet another night. But that was okay. We found a restaurant that had tacked pictures of Tigger and Winnie the Pooh all over the walls.
I'm listening to the Phantom of the Opera right now, by the way. Anyhow.
See y'all later.
We heard that particular phrase when we walked into a Burger King in Rome so Britt could buy fries-- how American. "Dimmi" in Italian means "tell me". You'll hear it all the time from cashiers. So after we ordered, the cashier was speaking to the couple behind us, who were not paying attention in the slightest bit. He decided to get their attention another way.
Unfortunately, they spoke neither Italian nor English. They were French... and quicker than lightning, the cashier switched over to French to take their order.
Okay. When it's at the point where the McDonald's cashiers speak at least three languages and you can only speak one, it's time to re-evaluate your life.
This weekend we went to Rome, if you haven't figured that out yet. I finished midterms last week and caught the 11 AM train out of Milan, effectively using the last of my Eurail pass. Why Rome? Well, Britt told me she and her class were going to be there. Why not? My travel pass was going to expire soon anyway. May as well go see a pretty place.
I had a hostel booked, and after the 4 1/2 hour train ride, I hunted for a map (which I am framing in gold for helping me navigate Rome the ENTIRE trip), and went to my hostel. Wasn't bad, and cost me like 10 Euro for the night. Afterwards, I went to go meet Britt at her hostel, and got to say hello to people I hadn't seen in awhile, like Erica.
I chose to keep my valuables with Britt in the hotel (which she was staying at with her entire class of like 50 people), and left it in the safe of the room she shared with her Florence roommate Stephanie. My backpack I carried with me-- never know when you might need something. And I packed light anyway.
We went to go get some food at 5:30, because we were going to be taken to a private tour of the Sistine Chapel at like 7:30 PM. I tagged along-- thanks again, Britt. How many people get to sit on the floor of the Sistine Chapel? Not many-- and not for long. But we did. And I had great portions of the place explained to me. Although I still think Michelangelo should have researched what a whale looked like before he ended up drawing an oversized bass next to Jonah. But I got to experience firsthand a Rab Hatfield lecture. According to the Syracuse folks, Hatfield is the equivalent of Chuck Norris in the art department.
Then it was back to the hotel at like 9:45. I was just going to grab my stuff, but I stayed a little longer in order to say goodnight and all that. Stephanie turned on the TV, and a movie called "The Brothers Solomon" was on. It was in Italian. I watched a little bit of it... and then woke up the next morning. Midterms really took it out of me. And yes, I passed out in their hotel room.
After waking up, we decided to have breakfast. AKA I mooched off of the free breakfast the hotel provided for its customers. It was awesome! First time I had eggs for breakfast since orientation.
We had a bed-and-breakfast waiting for us for Saturday night, so we headed over there after breaking fast. It might have been the best experience I've had with an overnight room. If anyone is ever in Rome, I highly recommend it- Diocleziano B&B. It's only like five minutes from the train station.
The rest of our weekend passed by in a touristy way. Spanish Steps, Trevi Fountain, the like. But on Sunday, we got to see two things: Porta Portese, which is the biggest outdoor market in Italy, and the Italian National We're-The-Shit day.
In other words, the army rolled out their copters, tanks, tents, battlefield computers, planes, and had an airshow going. It was cool- planes were flying overhead, doing the smoke-thing in the colors of the Irish flag.
Then the train strike prevented me from going home that night, and I had to stay yet another night. But that was okay. We found a restaurant that had tacked pictures of Tigger and Winnie the Pooh all over the walls.
I'm listening to the Phantom of the Opera right now, by the way. Anyhow.
See y'all later.
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
Time to stooooodieeee......
10:22 PM, GMT+1
So while everyone in the known universe is on Obama-watch, I'm definitely on International-Relations-and-the-Middle-East-Watch because of a stupid midterm tomorrow. This blows.
I get to go to Rome this weekend and do as the Romans do. Whatever that means. I'm probably going to end up visiting the Big Kahuna in the Vatican, and the Collosseum. Whatever I decide to do, I'm sure it will be a good time.
Weather update- it's raining. A lot.
I have four midterms this week, starting tomorrow. Hooray! And I'm sitting here in the dimly lit library, under a very small lamp, hunched over my notes. The window's about three feet to my left, and the wind's howling. I've also got CNN up on my computer so I can see which candidate gave America more brain-candy. Speaking of which, I think I'm going to write an article about the celebritization of presidential candidates. I do wish politics was a quiet, private affair where everyone made educated decisions. Hahahahahaha. What a joke.
Hopefully, the colder weather and the rain will mean no more moskeeters in my room. Except that if I get one warm day, I'm going to find myself on the menu for half of the insect population in Milan.
Oh, this weekend, I found an awesome pasta place by the Duomo. Thank you, Rick Steves. It's a chain full of Filipino people. Who happen to be all over Milan. It's like the cold and the rain brought all the brown people out!
Back to studying for me.
So while everyone in the known universe is on Obama-watch, I'm definitely on International-Relations-and-the-Middle-East-Watch because of a stupid midterm tomorrow. This blows.
I get to go to Rome this weekend and do as the Romans do. Whatever that means. I'm probably going to end up visiting the Big Kahuna in the Vatican, and the Collosseum. Whatever I decide to do, I'm sure it will be a good time.
Weather update- it's raining. A lot.
I have four midterms this week, starting tomorrow. Hooray! And I'm sitting here in the dimly lit library, under a very small lamp, hunched over my notes. The window's about three feet to my left, and the wind's howling. I've also got CNN up on my computer so I can see which candidate gave America more brain-candy. Speaking of which, I think I'm going to write an article about the celebritization of presidential candidates. I do wish politics was a quiet, private affair where everyone made educated decisions. Hahahahahaha. What a joke.
Hopefully, the colder weather and the rain will mean no more moskeeters in my room. Except that if I get one warm day, I'm going to find myself on the menu for half of the insect population in Milan.
Oh, this weekend, I found an awesome pasta place by the Duomo. Thank you, Rick Steves. It's a chain full of Filipino people. Who happen to be all over Milan. It's like the cold and the rain brought all the brown people out!
Back to studying for me.
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Halloween? In Italy?
7:12 PM, GMT+1
Yeah, it's happening. The Italians wanted the Americans to organize a Halloween party. Hooray!
In other news, I have decided that I will be using the final two days of my Eurail pass for going to Roma next weekend, after midterms.
Goddamn midterms.
In other other news, I've killed about 17 mosquitoes in the last three days. And they still keep coming...
Yeah, it's happening. The Italians wanted the Americans to organize a Halloween party. Hooray!
In other news, I have decided that I will be using the final two days of my Eurail pass for going to Roma next weekend, after midterms.
Goddamn midterms.
In other other news, I've killed about 17 mosquitoes in the last three days. And they still keep coming...
Saturday, October 25, 2008
Como-Lugano-Milan-Florence-Milan
Yeah, I was a busy bee. This was all over the course of like two days.
It's the girl's fault. Her parents were in town, so she decided to sit on a train for 5 hours to get to Lake Como. I tagged along, because it is significantly closer to me.
Anyway. We went to Lake Como, which is undoubtedly beautiful... but I think it was mildly overrated. We had lunch.. and then back on the train to get to Lugano.
I bought waaaay more chocolate in Lugano, and admired its beauty once again.
We went back, and somehow, I ended up on a train to Florence with Brittany and her parents. I slept on the floor of their 5-star hotel and woke up totally ache-free. Man, even the floor was awesome.
That was it.
It's the girl's fault. Her parents were in town, so she decided to sit on a train for 5 hours to get to Lake Como. I tagged along, because it is significantly closer to me.
Anyway. We went to Lake Como, which is undoubtedly beautiful... but I think it was mildly overrated. We had lunch.. and then back on the train to get to Lugano.
I bought waaaay more chocolate in Lugano, and admired its beauty once again.
We went back, and somehow, I ended up on a train to Florence with Brittany and her parents. I slept on the floor of their 5-star hotel and woke up totally ache-free. Man, even the floor was awesome.
That was it.
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
Ever hated Italy? I have.
12:40 AM, GMT +1
Right now, I'm just angry, stressed, frustrated, disappointed... take a negative adjective, and it probably describes me right now.
The Trenitalia website lied to me. I'm not going to go into it... but basically it told me I could get to Athens from Battipaglia by bus, which took an hour.
Battipaglia is on the southwest coast of Italy.
For those of you who don't know geography (mom), Greece is to the east of Italy, and the only way to reach it from Battipaglia is by Ferry. Unless the fucking bus floats/sprouts wings and flies. The ferry takes 12 hours.
I really hate my life right now. I already had tickets to Battipaglia, Brittany was really excited to go to Greece, and I was excited to go with her. Now, nothing. We have to cancel the trip, cancel everything, and I'm stuck here going over a stupid presentation and a stupid Italian test for tomorrow with nothing to look forward to this weekend except calcio and depression. Oh, and a field trip in my fashion class-- Yay!
I swear to God, I am so incredibly angry right now, and I wish I could just go find a nice, quiet beach to go sit by for a few days.
Right now, I'm just angry, stressed, frustrated, disappointed... take a negative adjective, and it probably describes me right now.
The Trenitalia website lied to me. I'm not going to go into it... but basically it told me I could get to Athens from Battipaglia by bus, which took an hour.
Battipaglia is on the southwest coast of Italy.
For those of you who don't know geography (mom), Greece is to the east of Italy, and the only way to reach it from Battipaglia is by Ferry. Unless the fucking bus floats/sprouts wings and flies. The ferry takes 12 hours.
I really hate my life right now. I already had tickets to Battipaglia, Brittany was really excited to go to Greece, and I was excited to go with her. Now, nothing. We have to cancel the trip, cancel everything, and I'm stuck here going over a stupid presentation and a stupid Italian test for tomorrow with nothing to look forward to this weekend except calcio and depression. Oh, and a field trip in my fashion class-- Yay!
I swear to God, I am so incredibly angry right now, and I wish I could just go find a nice, quiet beach to go sit by for a few days.
Sunday, October 19, 2008
Greece in four days!
10:21, GMT+1
That's right. And it's putting me back... 15.50 Euro a direction. Thanks for the Eurail pass, genitori. It's going to be a nine-hour train ride, but fortunately, it's a night train. Unfortunately, I'm sharing a cabin with four other people I don't know, and one I do. The ones I don't could be... interesting.
Sorry for the lack of continuous updates- I can't write about anything if things don't end up happening. But a few things have.
Last night, the Collegio threw a godawful party for some Collegio alum. It was... really, really bad. I stayed about thirty minutes and then returned to my room.
Today, though, Brittany and I went to Centrale (Milan's primary train station... in the center of the city. I know, huh. I wish I was that creative.), and lo and behold, there was a huge fair in front of it. Full of CHOCOLATE. Mmmmm.... fresh chocolate of all kinds.... any type you could name (except Lindt's Cresta Blancor, of course) was being sold there. And they sold it by the 100 g, also known as the "etto" here. Oh yeah. It was fantastic.
I had a much better game of calcio today, too. I scored my first goal! Yeah, it was kinda lucky though. I just kinda touched it past three defenders and saw a goal, loaded up, and fired- upon which the ball kinda just rolled forward in a typical defender shot. But it got under the goalie's leg, so it counted.
Other than that, I may be out of touch for a little. I've got so much work to do in the next week that it's unbelievable. I am going to be stressed out of my mind... but once I'm past it, smooth sailing. Grande.
Alrighty folks. Time to hit the books.
That's right. And it's putting me back... 15.50 Euro a direction. Thanks for the Eurail pass, genitori. It's going to be a nine-hour train ride, but fortunately, it's a night train. Unfortunately, I'm sharing a cabin with four other people I don't know, and one I do. The ones I don't could be... interesting.
Sorry for the lack of continuous updates- I can't write about anything if things don't end up happening. But a few things have.
Last night, the Collegio threw a godawful party for some Collegio alum. It was... really, really bad. I stayed about thirty minutes and then returned to my room.
Today, though, Brittany and I went to Centrale (Milan's primary train station... in the center of the city. I know, huh. I wish I was that creative.), and lo and behold, there was a huge fair in front of it. Full of CHOCOLATE. Mmmmm.... fresh chocolate of all kinds.... any type you could name (except Lindt's Cresta Blancor, of course) was being sold there. And they sold it by the 100 g, also known as the "etto" here. Oh yeah. It was fantastic.
I had a much better game of calcio today, too. I scored my first goal! Yeah, it was kinda lucky though. I just kinda touched it past three defenders and saw a goal, loaded up, and fired- upon which the ball kinda just rolled forward in a typical defender shot. But it got under the goalie's leg, so it counted.
Other than that, I may be out of touch for a little. I've got so much work to do in the next week that it's unbelievable. I am going to be stressed out of my mind... but once I'm past it, smooth sailing. Grande.
Alrighty folks. Time to hit the books.
Saturday, October 11, 2008
F*cking Mosquitoes.
7:43 AM, GMT+1
Note: This post will probably contain copious amounts of swearing.
So let's all ask ourselves why the hell I'm awake this early on a Sunday. Well, it's because of those fucking mosquitoes. Or rather, one in particular.
I awoke to unbearable itchiness on my shoulder, forearm and... forehead. See, a mosquito doesn't bite you on the forehead because he's hungry. He does it because he's an asshole and so he can laugh about it afterwards with all of his little mosquito friends. Bastard.
Not only that, while I was itching, I heard a constant buzzing in my ear. That means the sonofabitch was still around, contemplating seconds-- or thirds, or fourths, or whatever. I cocooned myself up in my blankets, and I could hear his buzzing. I tried to sleep, but I was so distracted by the buzzing, and I was afraid I was gonna throw my blankets off in the middle of my sleep. I also couldn't breathe, due to the lack of ventilation in the sheets.
So I had to lie there, listening to his buzzing, thinking that I might be paranoid and just imagining things, then convincing myself that I really wasn't because I could hear changes in frequency when he would move around, etc.
Then I really had to go pee.
Oh yes. That would have involved getting up and throwing my sheets off, exposing myself to the world. I tried to resist, but after awhile, it became too much. I tossed my sheets away, then jumped into the bathroom. After doing my business, I walked out... and I saw the filthy bloodsucker flying around.
I grabbed a long-sleeved shirt, jeans, and socks, and got ready for my mosquito hunt. I was gonna put him in a world of hurt.
And of course, I had to grab a weapon, which, being Filipino, was a flip-flop.
So for five minutes, I had to chase the little shit with wings around the room as he dodged, ducked, dipped, dived, and.... dodged. He was also small enough that he could blend in with several items in my room. Unfortunately for him, I have bare white walls.
I caught sight of him again when he emerged next to my dresser drawer. I spotted, aimed, and let fly with the flip-flop. However, I didn't see him afterwards. But there was a funny little red spot on my dresser. Just to make sure, I walked into the bathroom, got a piece of toilet paper, and wiped at the red spot.
Yup. Fresh blood.
That's RIGHT, bitch. Maybe if he hadn't eaten so much he'd still be alive... Nobody makes me bleed my own blood.
Note: This post will probably contain copious amounts of swearing.
So let's all ask ourselves why the hell I'm awake this early on a Sunday. Well, it's because of those fucking mosquitoes. Or rather, one in particular.
I awoke to unbearable itchiness on my shoulder, forearm and... forehead. See, a mosquito doesn't bite you on the forehead because he's hungry. He does it because he's an asshole and so he can laugh about it afterwards with all of his little mosquito friends. Bastard.
Not only that, while I was itching, I heard a constant buzzing in my ear. That means the sonofabitch was still around, contemplating seconds-- or thirds, or fourths, or whatever. I cocooned myself up in my blankets, and I could hear his buzzing. I tried to sleep, but I was so distracted by the buzzing, and I was afraid I was gonna throw my blankets off in the middle of my sleep. I also couldn't breathe, due to the lack of ventilation in the sheets.
So I had to lie there, listening to his buzzing, thinking that I might be paranoid and just imagining things, then convincing myself that I really wasn't because I could hear changes in frequency when he would move around, etc.
Then I really had to go pee.
Oh yes. That would have involved getting up and throwing my sheets off, exposing myself to the world. I tried to resist, but after awhile, it became too much. I tossed my sheets away, then jumped into the bathroom. After doing my business, I walked out... and I saw the filthy bloodsucker flying around.
I grabbed a long-sleeved shirt, jeans, and socks, and got ready for my mosquito hunt. I was gonna put him in a world of hurt.
And of course, I had to grab a weapon, which, being Filipino, was a flip-flop.
So for five minutes, I had to chase the little shit with wings around the room as he dodged, ducked, dipped, dived, and.... dodged. He was also small enough that he could blend in with several items in my room. Unfortunately for him, I have bare white walls.
I caught sight of him again when he emerged next to my dresser drawer. I spotted, aimed, and let fly with the flip-flop. However, I didn't see him afterwards. But there was a funny little red spot on my dresser. Just to make sure, I walked into the bathroom, got a piece of toilet paper, and wiped at the red spot.
Yup. Fresh blood.
That's RIGHT, bitch. Maybe if he hadn't eaten so much he'd still be alive... Nobody makes me bleed my own blood.
Italian Ice
5:15 PM, GMT+1
I went ice skating with the Italians yesterday. Yay!.... They're absolutely terrible at it. But at the same time, I saw about four old guys there on hockey skates who were without a doubt the best skaters I have ever seen. This is apparently one of the biggest rinks in Italy, so I wouldn't be surprised if they were like ex-national team hockey players or something.
Then today, Kristen and I decided to go explore the city. In other words, we got off on a Metro stop way past where we've ever been before. Arriving at Cascina Gobba, we walked around... and straight into a Romanian gypsy market that was enclosed, had security guards, and had trucks bearing advertisements for immigration services, etc. It was kind of scary, especially when you definitely don't look like you're one of them. However, it was interesting at the same time. We got to see all different kinds of foods and materials, but we still weren't all that comfortable with staying there.
Afterwards, we kept going east towards Gessate. Our Metro became a train when it got out of the tunnels, and we were looking at countryside in Milan. I know, right? What countryside? We got off at a place called Gorgonzola, and wandered about a very suburban part of Milan which was incredibly awesome. After that, we called it a day.
Maybe we'll ride a different line next time. But for now... I gotta do my laundry.
I went ice skating with the Italians yesterday. Yay!.... They're absolutely terrible at it. But at the same time, I saw about four old guys there on hockey skates who were without a doubt the best skaters I have ever seen. This is apparently one of the biggest rinks in Italy, so I wouldn't be surprised if they were like ex-national team hockey players or something.
Then today, Kristen and I decided to go explore the city. In other words, we got off on a Metro stop way past where we've ever been before. Arriving at Cascina Gobba, we walked around... and straight into a Romanian gypsy market that was enclosed, had security guards, and had trucks bearing advertisements for immigration services, etc. It was kind of scary, especially when you definitely don't look like you're one of them. However, it was interesting at the same time. We got to see all different kinds of foods and materials, but we still weren't all that comfortable with staying there.
Afterwards, we kept going east towards Gessate. Our Metro became a train when it got out of the tunnels, and we were looking at countryside in Milan. I know, right? What countryside? We got off at a place called Gorgonzola, and wandered about a very suburban part of Milan which was incredibly awesome. After that, we called it a day.
Maybe we'll ride a different line next time. But for now... I gotta do my laundry.
Wednesday, October 8, 2008
"Do you know what this means in Italian? This means, 'I'm KEEL you' in Italian!"
4:05 PM, GMT+1
I'd never even heard of Volterra before this most recent weekend. However, it's one of those beautiful old-time Italian towns with old buildings, narrow roads, and a great view of the Tuscan countryside. I didn't go to look at the countryside, though.
I went to play calcetto, or 5-0n-5 soccer, with the Italians from the Collegio di Milano. Apparently, there was some tournament that included competitions in all the typical Italian games- calcio, ping pong, biliardino (foosball), scacchi (chess), and poker. The American got asked because their weren't enough Italians to fill a roster. They all had exams.
These kids were just about the best players I've ever seen- and they're probably average for Italians. I got my ass kicked on a regular basis there, but it was a good experience.
It was kind of funny- it took six hours to get down to Volterra from Milano. On the way, the Italians were teaching me how to swear and other random things in Italian. I was also dubbed "Don Giovanni" for the duration of the tournament. They taught me some hand-signals too. Apparently, when you kiss the tips of your fingers and then open your hand to the air (I can illustrate the next time I see you), it means that whoever you're addressing is/will shortly be dead. Keep that in mind.
As for the tournament itself, well. We lost, and I'll leave it at that. However, I had some free time after the tournament, so I decided to take a little sight-seeing visit to Florence. Yeah, that's right. I felt like going to Florence randomly. No other reasons. Nope.
More to come.
I'd never even heard of Volterra before this most recent weekend. However, it's one of those beautiful old-time Italian towns with old buildings, narrow roads, and a great view of the Tuscan countryside. I didn't go to look at the countryside, though.
I went to play calcetto, or 5-0n-5 soccer, with the Italians from the Collegio di Milano. Apparently, there was some tournament that included competitions in all the typical Italian games- calcio, ping pong, biliardino (foosball), scacchi (chess), and poker. The American got asked because their weren't enough Italians to fill a roster. They all had exams.
These kids were just about the best players I've ever seen- and they're probably average for Italians. I got my ass kicked on a regular basis there, but it was a good experience.
It was kind of funny- it took six hours to get down to Volterra from Milano. On the way, the Italians were teaching me how to swear and other random things in Italian. I was also dubbed "Don Giovanni" for the duration of the tournament. They taught me some hand-signals too. Apparently, when you kiss the tips of your fingers and then open your hand to the air (I can illustrate the next time I see you), it means that whoever you're addressing is/will shortly be dead. Keep that in mind.
As for the tournament itself, well. We lost, and I'll leave it at that. However, I had some free time after the tournament, so I decided to take a little sight-seeing visit to Florence. Yeah, that's right. I felt like going to Florence randomly. No other reasons. Nope.
More to come.
Monday, September 29, 2008
Life as a Trainhopper
11:24 PM, GMT+1
I don't even know if that's a word, but I think it describes me pretty well. At least after I got yelled at by the Trenitalia Nazi for not marking down a usage on my Eurail pass on the way back from Venice.
Ah, Venice. Beautiful city filled with the sweet smell of dirty canal water, gondoleers making obscene gestures at each other and laughing while dumb tourists take pictures, 60-year-old brides, private, tiny wineries, and more gelato than I could fill my happy little stomach with.
I'm not going to go into detail of what I saw, but rather what I experienced. Everyone has a general idea of what the place looks like. If you don't, I have pictures that will give you one.
Brittany took a train to Milan early Friday morning, and from there, we took a nice, uneventful ride to Venezia (veh-NET-see-ah. I keep pronouncing it wrong).
It was gorgous, and we spent most of our time doing what couples do in Venice. That's right- eating. We ate and ate and ate. Pizza, chocolate, gelato, nothing was safe from our ravenous hunger.
The hostel we stayed in was outside of the city. It was cheap, and it was a youth hostel. It was quite an experience. We had to deal with grumpy bus men and obnoxious Australians on a daily basis.
Coming back was a downer. Not only did I get yelled at by Hitler's granddaughter for not marking the trip on my Eurail pass (why wouldn't they just do it? Wouldn't that save them the trouble? Idiots), but I had to say goodbye to Brittany and see her off at the train station. I said goodbye painfully, then it was back home to play some calcio to try to get some of that delicious gelato out of my system. I started getting mildly sick, and not only that, I had a shitty game. I doubt they're related, though.
In other news, classes have started this week, as did work. As far as my classes go... I hate my Post-Industrial Business in Milan class. My teacher pretty much changes class days and times whenever she feels like it. That includes moving some to Saturdays. Is nothing sacred?!
Work was fun. It was interesting to deal with tiny tots during Monopoly. Eh, I'll turn them into cutthroat American businessmen before my time is up, though.
Oh. And I've been asked to play in a 5-on-5 Calcio tournament with the Italians in Tuscany this weekend. I dunno what that means- maybe there's a Destroy-The-American division.
Pictures to come.
I don't even know if that's a word, but I think it describes me pretty well. At least after I got yelled at by the Trenitalia Nazi for not marking down a usage on my Eurail pass on the way back from Venice.
Ah, Venice. Beautiful city filled with the sweet smell of dirty canal water, gondoleers making obscene gestures at each other and laughing while dumb tourists take pictures, 60-year-old brides, private, tiny wineries, and more gelato than I could fill my happy little stomach with.
I'm not going to go into detail of what I saw, but rather what I experienced. Everyone has a general idea of what the place looks like. If you don't, I have pictures that will give you one.
Brittany took a train to Milan early Friday morning, and from there, we took a nice, uneventful ride to Venezia (veh-NET-see-ah. I keep pronouncing it wrong).
It was gorgous, and we spent most of our time doing what couples do in Venice. That's right- eating. We ate and ate and ate. Pizza, chocolate, gelato, nothing was safe from our ravenous hunger.
The hostel we stayed in was outside of the city. It was cheap, and it was a youth hostel. It was quite an experience. We had to deal with grumpy bus men and obnoxious Australians on a daily basis.
Coming back was a downer. Not only did I get yelled at by Hitler's granddaughter for not marking the trip on my Eurail pass (why wouldn't they just do it? Wouldn't that save them the trouble? Idiots), but I had to say goodbye to Brittany and see her off at the train station. I said goodbye painfully, then it was back home to play some calcio to try to get some of that delicious gelato out of my system. I started getting mildly sick, and not only that, I had a shitty game. I doubt they're related, though.
In other news, classes have started this week, as did work. As far as my classes go... I hate my Post-Industrial Business in Milan class. My teacher pretty much changes class days and times whenever she feels like it. That includes moving some to Saturdays. Is nothing sacred?!
Work was fun. It was interesting to deal with tiny tots during Monopoly. Eh, I'll turn them into cutthroat American businessmen before my time is up, though.
Oh. And I've been asked to play in a 5-on-5 Calcio tournament with the Italians in Tuscany this weekend. I dunno what that means- maybe there's a Destroy-The-American division.
Pictures to come.
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
I'm Asian. Of course I can play ping-pong.
10:32 PM, GMT+1
WE BEAT THE CHINESE GUYS. Oh yeah. I went there. Pietro and I beat them. So step one of my goal to annex the Collegio in the name of America is complete. The whole night at dinner, I was telling Pietro that my goal was to beat Shan before the end of the semester. He kept telling me that it was only a dream.
And then we won. Hah. Right in yo' fayce. Then Vincenzo and I beat Pietro and this girl who was pretty damn good.
Alright. As for the rest of my day, I went to a friend's apartment and did my laundry, because my bank company apparently thinks I'm committing fraud and won't let me take money out. So it's all sitting in their apartment, drying out.
Then I got another boxing lesson, and in return, instructed Diego in the art of kicking. Got some dinner. And PLANTED THE AMERICAN FLAG ON THE PING-PONG TABLE.
WE BEAT THE CHINESE GUYS. Oh yeah. I went there. Pietro and I beat them. So step one of my goal to annex the Collegio in the name of America is complete. The whole night at dinner, I was telling Pietro that my goal was to beat Shan before the end of the semester. He kept telling me that it was only a dream.
And then we won. Hah. Right in yo' fayce. Then Vincenzo and I beat Pietro and this girl who was pretty damn good.
Alright. As for the rest of my day, I went to a friend's apartment and did my laundry, because my bank company apparently thinks I'm committing fraud and won't let me take money out. So it's all sitting in their apartment, drying out.
Then I got another boxing lesson, and in return, instructed Diego in the art of kicking. Got some dinner. And PLANTED THE AMERICAN FLAG ON THE PING-PONG TABLE.
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
Vado a Venezia! Soon, at least.
10:11 PM, GMT+1
Alright, so here's the deal. I've got homework to do, so I'm going to make this brief. I bought train tickets to Venice today, and am super, super excited.
Also, last night, I got to taste grappa. The sh*t's strong. It kinda tastes like demonic urine mixed with what may have been grapes three hundred years ago. But it's not bad.
I'm also getting better at ping-pong. The Italian way here involves dinner, a lot of talking, then some more talking in the lounge or some games like ping-pong or foosball. Federico and I almost won. Almost. Dammit. I swear- I will be better than the Italians in everything before I leave. I'm adapting my pong style to the Chinese oddly-held method. And y'know what, they're onto something. It's pretty good.
Okay. Things to do, people to see, so I'll head out. Oh, and mom and dad, your chocolate's almost gone.
Alright, so here's the deal. I've got homework to do, so I'm going to make this brief. I bought train tickets to Venice today, and am super, super excited.
Also, last night, I got to taste grappa. The sh*t's strong. It kinda tastes like demonic urine mixed with what may have been grapes three hundred years ago. But it's not bad.
I'm also getting better at ping-pong. The Italian way here involves dinner, a lot of talking, then some more talking in the lounge or some games like ping-pong or foosball. Federico and I almost won. Almost. Dammit. I swear- I will be better than the Italians in everything before I leave. I'm adapting my pong style to the Chinese oddly-held method. And y'know what, they're onto something. It's pretty good.
Okay. Things to do, people to see, so I'll head out. Oh, and mom and dad, your chocolate's almost gone.
Monday, September 22, 2008
Call me an Italian Blue-Collar man
10:23 PM, GMT+1
I got the job today, and I'm pretty excited about it. It literally involves playing board games with Italian pre-adolescents and speaking nothing but English. However, they are very limited hours, and I'm still trying to find another job that I could work at steadily.
Yesterday involved more calcio with the Italians. Now all I do is run a whole lot when I play with them. And they know I run, so they put me in a position where I can run pretty freely. But it was kind of boring and uninspiring- felt like no one was really into it.
The weekend, for the most part, passed by without a major incident. Just some hanging around friends' apartments, and that's about it. Next weekend, however, I get to see the most incredible person I know.
Also, I'm starting to pick up ping-pong. You know, it's not an exaggeration- Chinese people really are good at it. Yes, I said Chinese. There's a Chinese immigrant here who rules the table, and constantly kicks my ass. Actually, I've been getting my ass kicked in everything here. It's really disheartening- the Italians are better than me at literally everything.
Oh. By the way- I had to take this personality test as part of the selection process. We're talking a legitimate personality test- the readings were eighteen pages long. Had some funny stuff in it too.
Alright. I'm out.
I got the job today, and I'm pretty excited about it. It literally involves playing board games with Italian pre-adolescents and speaking nothing but English. However, they are very limited hours, and I'm still trying to find another job that I could work at steadily.
Yesterday involved more calcio with the Italians. Now all I do is run a whole lot when I play with them. And they know I run, so they put me in a position where I can run pretty freely. But it was kind of boring and uninspiring- felt like no one was really into it.
The weekend, for the most part, passed by without a major incident. Just some hanging around friends' apartments, and that's about it. Next weekend, however, I get to see the most incredible person I know.
Also, I'm starting to pick up ping-pong. You know, it's not an exaggeration- Chinese people really are good at it. Yes, I said Chinese. There's a Chinese immigrant here who rules the table, and constantly kicks my ass. Actually, I've been getting my ass kicked in everything here. It's really disheartening- the Italians are better than me at literally everything.
Oh. By the way- I had to take this personality test as part of the selection process. We're talking a legitimate personality test- the readings were eighteen pages long. Had some funny stuff in it too.
Alright. I'm out.
Thursday, September 18, 2008
My IES advisor is in a Queen cover band
10:46 PM, GMT+1
And he's pretty good, too. Thanks, Walter.
Check out the pictures down below!
Speaking of which. Not much has been up lately, but I am looking for a job and may have found one. I've sent and received a few e-mails with this one lady, and we'll see where it goes from there. It could go a long way towards helping me out in Italy.
I also have an exam tomorrow-- hooray.
Did I mention that I have Finding Nemo in Italian? Well, I do. And Beauty and the Beast. And Ratatouille. And Borat. And the Emperor's New Groove.
I love Italy almost as much as I love Brittany.
And he's pretty good, too. Thanks, Walter.
Check out the pictures down below!
Speaking of which. Not much has been up lately, but I am looking for a job and may have found one. I've sent and received a few e-mails with this one lady, and we'll see where it goes from there. It could go a long way towards helping me out in Italy.
I also have an exam tomorrow-- hooray.
Did I mention that I have Finding Nemo in Italian? Well, I do. And Beauty and the Beast. And Ratatouille. And Borat. And the Emperor's New Groove.
I love Italy almost as much as I love Brittany.
Sunday, September 14, 2008
"Hey... wanna go to Switzerland?"
1:25 PM, GMT+1
By the way, this will be a somewhat extensive blog.
I've been away from the blog for awhile because I was busy getting fat on Swiss chocolate. Yes, I said it.
La mia ragazza, Brittany, visited me, and we decided to visit Switzerland on a whim. The weather wasn't nice enough to go see Lake Como, and we bought tickets to go to the land of milk, honey, chocolate, and financial centers. It was fabulous.
It was an hour and a half to get to Lugano, which is at the Southeastern tip of Switzerland-- we arrived around . The train station was up a mountain, and to climb down we had to walk along these winding roads, around various buildings that had a modern (yet pretty) look to them. Just imagine walking down cobblestone roads, between old churches and modern apartments, old houses and modern parking lots, etc. We came to a straightaway, and looming there before us...
...was a massive, beautiful lake. From where we were, we could see the lake stretching into the distance, winding between several mountains until the eye couldn't follow it anymore. It was crystal-clear, and reflected the light of the various houses that rose up the face of the mountain. To our left were shopping centers, and yet they only added to the beauty by allowing their numerous, linear lights reflect off of the surface of the water. At nighttime, the moon rose between the twin peaks of the mountains in the distance, only partly obscured by the wispy clouds that passed by. The lights of the houses formed a picture without purpose, yet had all the beauty of one that did. I felt like I could lean on the railing, watching that beautiful bit of scenery for the rest of my life. I guess it might have also helped that I had my chin on Brittany's shoulder, and my arms around her, shielding her from the biting--yet refreshing--cold.
Enough of the description, though. I wanted to look for chocolate, because the lake was always going to be there. We weren't, and the stores were all closed at 5. We arrived at 5:07.
I was getting mucho angry, because I needed my Swiss chocolate fix. Brittany decided to walk into some department-type store called CoopCity, and lo and behold- chocolate upon chocolate. Upon chocolate. I pranced through the aisles of confectionary while bluebirds dropped daisies before my feet.
But seriously. Chocolate. I was hunting for this one type of Lindt chocolate that my mom wanted, but I couldn't find it. It didn't really matter. There was all that chocolate. I went and blew 20 Swiss Francs on chocolate bars, which I should send home, but if my parents fail to make a decision soon, will no longer be in existence.
We were hungry, so we ate in a Swiss McDonalds, where I got a BEEF LATIIIINO. Which was a piece of lettuce and a runty patty on ciabatta bread. There were a couple of kids playing Fifa '08 on the PS3 Mickey D's had set up.
We walked around outside and ogled at all the chocolate and chocolate pastries the closed shops had on display. Eventually, our meanderings brought us to this big white tent with a big plastic chess set. Like, big. As in two-and-a-half feet tall pieces.
We started playing chess, and I explained the game to Britt while we played. Although she didn't really need much help- she was better than she was letting on. Anyhow, we were playing for awhile and people were beginning to gather around us to watch the game. Eventually, some chubby Swiss guy smoking a cigar started to help her. Needless to say, I was destroyed pretty quickly. As I later found out, there was a chess tournament beginning in twenty minutes, and all of these people were to be the competitors.
We just sort of meandered all over Lugano before we had to head back to the train station, and ended up in the grocery next to the station. Britt tried to buy a nutella-dipping snack and failed when she came up a franc short. I spent all of my money on chocolate, so... I was unable to assist.
We went back, and that was that. Goodbye Switzerland... hellooooooooooooo chocolate.
The next day was spent wandering about the history of Milan- the Castello, the Duomo, etc. We found a museum that cost 1.50 a person, and it had a whole bunch of ancient weapons to appease the geek in me. The rest of the day was... well, really, really bittersweet, but that's a story for another time. Let's just say that Britt left on a train and I missed calcio.
So, Monday. Where to begin... we got our tests back, and I did well enough on my Italian exam. Went to go get a permit to stay, got permitted to stay, went home, and went to the gym. Where I ended up fighting with the Collegio's local boxing instructor because he asked me to. It might be a good idea to get a mouthguard sometime soon. Oh, and I went to the music room and played la chitarra for a little. I'm beginning to feel like Italians are just better at me than everything. Dammit.
Claudio, my neighbor, invited me to hang out in his room with Matteo, Luca, and Amos. I ended up taking a whole bunch of movies from Claudio to practice my Italian. We also had an in-depth discussion about linguistic differences, and slang. I was there for like three hours.
Today I sat in on an Italian class that was a level up. It was extremely difficult, yet fun. We went to an outdoor market and just hung out for a few hours. And now I'm here.
By the way, this will be a somewhat extensive blog.
I've been away from the blog for awhile because I was busy getting fat on Swiss chocolate. Yes, I said it.
La mia ragazza, Brittany, visited me, and we decided to visit Switzerland on a whim. The weather wasn't nice enough to go see Lake Como, and we bought tickets to go to the land of milk, honey, chocolate, and financial centers. It was fabulous.
It was an hour and a half to get to Lugano, which is at the Southeastern tip of Switzerland-- we arrived around . The train station was up a mountain, and to climb down we had to walk along these winding roads, around various buildings that had a modern (yet pretty) look to them. Just imagine walking down cobblestone roads, between old churches and modern apartments, old houses and modern parking lots, etc. We came to a straightaway, and looming there before us... ...was a massive, beautiful lake. From where we were, we could see the lake stretching into the distance, winding between several mountains until the eye couldn't follow it anymore. It was crystal-clear, and reflected the light of the various houses that rose up the face of the mountain. To our left were shopping centers, and yet they only added to the beauty by allowing their numerous, linear lights reflect off of the surface of the water. At nighttime, the moon rose between the twin peaks of the mountains in the distance, only partly obscured by the wispy clouds that passed by. The lights of the houses formed a picture without purpose, yet had all the beauty of one that did. I felt like I could lean on the railing, watching that beautiful bit of scenery for the rest of my life. I guess it might have also helped that I had my chin on Brittany's shoulder, and my arms around her, shielding her from the biting--yet refreshing--cold.
Enough of the description, though. I wanted to look for chocolate, because the lake was always going to be there. We weren't, and the stores were all closed at 5. We arrived at 5:07.
I was getting mucho angry, because I needed my Swiss chocolate fix. Brittany decided to walk into some department-type store called CoopCity, and lo and behold- chocolate upon chocolate. Upon chocolate. I pranced through the aisles of confectionary while bluebirds dropped daisies before my feet.
But seriously. Chocolate. I was hunting for this one type of Lindt chocolate that my mom wanted, but I couldn't find it. It didn't really matter. There was all that chocolate. I went and blew 20 Swiss Francs on chocolate bars, which I should send home, but if my parents fail to make a decision soon, will no longer be in existence.We were hungry, so we ate in a Swiss McDonalds, where I got a BEEF LATIIIINO. Which was a piece of lettuce and a runty patty on ciabatta bread. There were a couple of kids playing Fifa '08 on the PS3 Mickey D's had set up.
We walked around outside and ogled at all the chocolate and chocolate pastries the closed shops had on display. Eventually, our meanderings brought us to this big white tent with a big plastic chess set. Like, big. As in two-and-a-half feet tall pieces.
We started playing chess, and I explained the game to Britt while we played. Although she didn't really need much help- she was better than she was letting on. Anyhow, we were playing for awhile and people were beginning to gather around us to watch the game. Eventually, some chubby Swiss guy smoking a cigar started to help her. Needless to say, I was destroyed pretty quickly. As I later found out, there was a chess tournament beginning in twenty minutes, and all of these people were to be the competitors.
We just sort of meandered all over Lugano before we had to head back to the train station, and ended up in the grocery next to the station. Britt tried to buy a nutella-dipping snack and failed when she came up a franc short. I spent all of my money on chocolate, so... I was unable to assist.
We went back, and that was that. Goodbye Switzerland... hellooooooooooooo chocolate.
The next day was spent wandering about the history of Milan- the Castello, the Duomo, etc. We found a museum that cost 1.50 a person, and it had a whole bunch of ancient weapons to appease the geek in me. The rest of the day was... well, really, really bittersweet, but that's a story for another time. Let's just say that Britt left on a train and I missed calcio.
So, Monday. Where to begin... we got our tests back, and I did well enough on my Italian exam. Went to go get a permit to stay, got permitted to stay, went home, and went to the gym. Where I ended up fighting with the Collegio's local boxing instructor because he asked me to. It might be a good idea to get a mouthguard sometime soon. Oh, and I went to the music room and played la chitarra for a little. I'm beginning to feel like Italians are just better at me than everything. Dammit.
Claudio, my neighbor, invited me to hang out in his room with Matteo, Luca, and Amos. I ended up taking a whole bunch of movies from Claudio to practice my Italian. We also had an in-depth discussion about linguistic differences, and slang. I was there for like three hours.
Today I sat in on an Italian class that was a level up. It was extremely difficult, yet fun. We went to an outdoor market and just hung out for a few hours. And now I'm here.
Thursday, September 11, 2008
I wish my CD burner worked.
Then I wouldn't have to listen to Little Red Corvette while I work out, because it's the ONLY FRIGGIN' CD THE ITALIANS HAVE.
Tuesday, September 9, 2008
"You play soccer like an American."
10:55 PM, GMT+1
Eric tutored me for like an hour on the uses of c'e, ci sono, e, and sono. It was a long and very
confusing lezione. However, we got to talking about calcio, and apparently, I already have a reputation for being "aggressive". What that means, I guess, is that I play ugly soccer, and more importantly, I play like an American. I asked Manuel at dinner if he'd show me how to play like an Italian, and he just laughed. "When Americans come here and try to play, they are generally very fit. But they have no technical skill. You have more than most of them did."
I took that to mean that I have a lot to work on, because the next time they won't be so nice to me.
Got to use the gym for the first time today, too. It was exciting. I've never been in a gym all by myself. But I had issues converting kilos to pounds. The whole time I was lifting I was trying to run quick numbers in my head. In the end I just gave up and lifted whatever I felt like putting on the bar.
We went to get some free food with the girls after dinner tonight. Not much to tell- "international night" apparently involved plenty of free food.
Oh, and the late-night doorman knows my name and my room number already.
Eric tutored me for like an hour on the uses of c'e, ci sono, e, and sono. It was a long and very
confusing lezione. However, we got to talking about calcio, and apparently, I already have a reputation for being "aggressive". What that means, I guess, is that I play ugly soccer, and more importantly, I play like an American. I asked Manuel at dinner if he'd show me how to play like an Italian, and he just laughed. "When Americans come here and try to play, they are generally very fit. But they have no technical skill. You have more than most of them did."
I took that to mean that I have a lot to work on, because the next time they won't be so nice to me.
Got to use the gym for the first time today, too. It was exciting. I've never been in a gym all by myself. But I had issues converting kilos to pounds. The whole time I was lifting I was trying to run quick numbers in my head. In the end I just gave up and lifted whatever I felt like putting on the bar.
We went to get some free food with the girls after dinner tonight. Not much to tell- "international night" apparently involved plenty of free food.
Oh, and the late-night doorman knows my name and my room number already.
Monday, September 8, 2008
FINITO!
8:57 PM, GMT+1
I had a physical today so I could use the Cattolica gym. This old Italian guy who spoke very fragmented English conducted it. It was pretty average, but I thought it was pretty funny how he had to tell me that it was over about twelve times. It finally ended with him bellowing "FINITO!" at me, and me running out after grabbing my notebook and iPod.
And then I fell down the stairs on the way back to the lounge.
Oh, and it seems now that I played calcio with the guys, I've made a whole bunch of new friends. They all seem to know my name... weird.
I had a physical today so I could use the Cattolica gym. This old Italian guy who spoke very fragmented English conducted it. It was pretty average, but I thought it was pretty funny how he had to tell me that it was over about twelve times. It finally ended with him bellowing "FINITO!" at me, and me running out after grabbing my notebook and iPod.
And then I fell down the stairs on the way back to the lounge.
Oh, and it seems now that I played calcio with the guys, I've made a whole bunch of new friends. They all seem to know my name... weird.
Sunday, September 7, 2008
Calcio
10:16 PM, GMT+1
Well, I played a little futbol/calcio/soccer with the Italians today. And you know what... it was damn fun.
Most of them are pretty good, but I was able to hold my own. They told me I did pretty well afterwards, but maybe they just didn't want to tell me I sucked.
Italians are very organized about their pickup games. They have pennies and positions. Well, two of them, at least-- offense and defense. I was on defense. And I got to mark the two fastest guys on their team.
I missed three shots... my first one was embarrassing. It hit the top crossbar when the goalie was on the floor. My second shot was a header off of a corner kick that went inches wide of the right goalpost. My last one was left-footed, and passed over the top of the crossbar by inches as well.
The compliments I was getting from the Italians after the game was that I was "powerful". Now I don't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing. It could be the equivalent of calling me a big ugly brute.
I had the chance to speak with one of the Italians after the game. He used to get paid to play. Apparently, he played in whatever league comes after Serie C. Which is still pretty good. Anyway. They play every Sunday, and I'm really tired. Hopefully I earned a little respect today. If I didn't, well, next Sunday's gonna be a long one.
Well, I played a little futbol/calcio/soccer with the Italians today. And you know what... it was damn fun.
Most of them are pretty good, but I was able to hold my own. They told me I did pretty well afterwards, but maybe they just didn't want to tell me I sucked.
Italians are very organized about their pickup games. They have pennies and positions. Well, two of them, at least-- offense and defense. I was on defense. And I got to mark the two fastest guys on their team.
I missed three shots... my first one was embarrassing. It hit the top crossbar when the goalie was on the floor. My second shot was a header off of a corner kick that went inches wide of the right goalpost. My last one was left-footed, and passed over the top of the crossbar by inches as well.
The compliments I was getting from the Italians after the game was that I was "powerful". Now I don't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing. It could be the equivalent of calling me a big ugly brute.
I had the chance to speak with one of the Italians after the game. He used to get paid to play. Apparently, he played in whatever league comes after Serie C. Which is still pretty good. Anyway. They play every Sunday, and I'm really tired. Hopefully I earned a little respect today. If I didn't, well, next Sunday's gonna be a long one.
Saturday, September 6, 2008
What- no, I DON'T want any of your god damn freaky-freaky!
2:42 AM, GMT+1
Travel tip #467: Don't EVER walk from Pta. Genova to Famagosta by yourself.
So I had to walk home tonight. Which was cool and all... Pta. Genova was only one stop away from Famagosta.
Except I made three huge mistakes: Pta. Genova is two stops away, not one, the stops are a lot farther than they seem, and there are plenty of whore-infested main streets in Milan.
So I walked around 22 cm... on my map, that is. According to the map, 1 cm is about 200 meters. So I walked 4400 meters. That's 4.4 kilometers. So let me introduce you to a new term I discovered. It's called RFF, which stands for Really F*cking Far.
Milan can be pretty scary for someone unfamiliar with the city at night. It didn't help that I made the mistake of asking a prostitute for directions about half-a-second before I realized she was a prostitute.
"Ciao!" She smiled cheerily at me and hiked up her white miniskirt. "Ciao," I replied. She rattled off something in Italian, and I told her I didn't understand because I was American.
"Ah, speak english.... uh... freaky-freaky!" I quickly gave her a negative. "No no no. I just want to know how to get to Famagosta."
"Eh... 50 Euro and I go with you wherever you like!"... This is why I think english should be the global language.
"Er... no. Dov'e Famagosta," I asked, backing away slowly. "Famagosta?" She just smiled and shrugged.
Now let's rethink this whole loving Italy thing...
Travel tip #467: Don't EVER walk from Pta. Genova to Famagosta by yourself.
So I had to walk home tonight. Which was cool and all... Pta. Genova was only one stop away from Famagosta.
Except I made three huge mistakes: Pta. Genova is two stops away, not one, the stops are a lot farther than they seem, and there are plenty of whore-infested main streets in Milan.
So I walked around 22 cm... on my map, that is. According to the map, 1 cm is about 200 meters. So I walked 4400 meters. That's 4.4 kilometers. So let me introduce you to a new term I discovered. It's called RFF, which stands for Really F*cking Far.
Milan can be pretty scary for someone unfamiliar with the city at night. It didn't help that I made the mistake of asking a prostitute for directions about half-a-second before I realized she was a prostitute.
"Ciao!" She smiled cheerily at me and hiked up her white miniskirt. "Ciao," I replied. She rattled off something in Italian, and I told her I didn't understand because I was American.
"Ah, speak english.... uh... freaky-freaky!" I quickly gave her a negative. "No no no. I just want to know how to get to Famagosta."
"Eh... 50 Euro and I go with you wherever you like!"... This is why I think english should be the global language.
"Er... no. Dov'e Famagosta," I asked, backing away slowly. "Famagosta?" She just smiled and shrugged.
Now let's rethink this whole loving Italy thing...
Checkmate. And 10-0.
5:00 PM, GMT +1
Not much to tell today. I studied Italian, went to the music room and played a little, and just kinda goofed off. I was really bored...
Then I went up against a very good chess player, and almost beat her. And then she managed to twist things around and put me in checkmate. But hey, at least I have a little of her respect now- she was from Britain, and I think she was looking forward to a nice game of pummel-the-colonial. But I gave her a good run.
Now in foosball, on the other hand... first game I played, Roberto and I won pretty handily. Second and third games... the local foosball champions spanked us. Twice. 10-2 and 10-0.
Probably gonna wander around the streets of Milan in the next couple of days.
Not much to tell today. I studied Italian, went to the music room and played a little, and just kinda goofed off. I was really bored...
Then I went up against a very good chess player, and almost beat her. And then she managed to twist things around and put me in checkmate. But hey, at least I have a little of her respect now- she was from Britain, and I think she was looking forward to a nice game of pummel-the-colonial. But I gave her a good run.
Now in foosball, on the other hand... first game I played, Roberto and I won pretty handily. Second and third games... the local foosball champions spanked us. Twice. 10-2 and 10-0.
Probably gonna wander around the streets of Milan in the next couple of days.
Friday, September 5, 2008
"Tu sei americano?"
2:25 PM, GMT +1
Last night around sette, we went to a little event called an aperitivo, which seemed like a chance to eat and drink before you eat and drink. Of course, I'm still waiting for my drink which never came.
Afterwards, I accompanied Lauren and Elise back to their apartment so they could safely wander the streets of Milano at nighttime. I was still exhausted from the three hours of sleep I got the night before... Old Fashion might have been the death of me.
We relaxed and then decided to go to to Drew, Ryan, and Leif's apartment for a little while. Can't say I remember much- I was so tired that I could barely keep my eyes open.
Now here's the scary part. After the 7-block walk back to the metro station, I was the only one who was taking the green line home. Everyone else was on the red line. So I said goodbye to them at the station, and hopped into the metro, where there were about three people on the entire train, and two of them were in my car.
Keep in mind that it was around 12:15, and the trains stop running at 12:30. I had a half-hour before my station came up, so I closed my eyes for a little. When I opened them, the train was empty, and the sign above my head showed St. Agostini. I had missed my stop on the last train to my station.
I was praying the train would stop, but the next two stations we passed were completely dark, and we didn't even stop at them. I thought I was gonna end up on the other side of the city, and I'd have to drag my Euro-less ass back home on foot.
Then I looked at the map on the train, and remembered that Famogosta was the next stop. And when we stopped, the ugly green sign that hung above the station never looked more beautiful to me. I crawled back home slowly, greeted Franco the doorman, went into my room, and passed out.
The next morning, I had a language exam for IES. Well, at least I thought I did. But since I was in Italian for Dummies 100, we just had normal class.
I planned on waking up at 7:30 and taking my time. Instead, I got up at 8:30, threw on a shirt, ran downstairs to the cafeteria, and wolfed down my brionche (croissant), aranciata (orange juice), and whatever the italian word is for mixed-berry yogurt. I got some funny looks from the three people in the cafeteria. I don't think Italians normally finish any kind of meal, no matter how small, in under a minute.
On the way out, I held the gate open for this Chinese student. He looked at me while we both walked towards the metro, and he said, "Tu sei americano?" I replied, "Si, sono americano." Then he said something else in italian that I could not understand. I just kinda blankly looked at him.
He smiled. "What are you doing here," he asked in english. We just talked, and I discovered that he was merely studying in Italy. He was a chinese student who learned italian and happened to know a fair amount of english.
Yay American education. Anyhow. The rest of the day was pretty bland. Went to class, was still tired, went home, ate lunch, passed out for six hours, woke up, got lost, got lost twice more, then ended up in a friend's apartment for dinner.
Damn, I love Milan.
Last night around sette, we went to a little event called an aperitivo, which seemed like a chance to eat and drink before you eat and drink. Of course, I'm still waiting for my drink which never came.
Afterwards, I accompanied Lauren and Elise back to their apartment so they could safely wander the streets of Milano at nighttime. I was still exhausted from the three hours of sleep I got the night before... Old Fashion might have been the death of me.
We relaxed and then decided to go to to Drew, Ryan, and Leif's apartment for a little while. Can't say I remember much- I was so tired that I could barely keep my eyes open.
Now here's the scary part. After the 7-block walk back to the metro station, I was the only one who was taking the green line home. Everyone else was on the red line. So I said goodbye to them at the station, and hopped into the metro, where there were about three people on the entire train, and two of them were in my car.
Keep in mind that it was around 12:15, and the trains stop running at 12:30. I had a half-hour before my station came up, so I closed my eyes for a little. When I opened them, the train was empty, and the sign above my head showed St. Agostini. I had missed my stop on the last train to my station.
I was praying the train would stop, but the next two stations we passed were completely dark, and we didn't even stop at them. I thought I was gonna end up on the other side of the city, and I'd have to drag my Euro-less ass back home on foot.
Then I looked at the map on the train, and remembered that Famogosta was the next stop. And when we stopped, the ugly green sign that hung above the station never looked more beautiful to me. I crawled back home slowly, greeted Franco the doorman, went into my room, and passed out.
The next morning, I had a language exam for IES. Well, at least I thought I did. But since I was in Italian for Dummies 100, we just had normal class.
I planned on waking up at 7:30 and taking my time. Instead, I got up at 8:30, threw on a shirt, ran downstairs to the cafeteria, and wolfed down my brionche (croissant), aranciata (orange juice), and whatever the italian word is for mixed-berry yogurt. I got some funny looks from the three people in the cafeteria. I don't think Italians normally finish any kind of meal, no matter how small, in under a minute.
On the way out, I held the gate open for this Chinese student. He looked at me while we both walked towards the metro, and he said, "Tu sei americano?" I replied, "Si, sono americano." Then he said something else in italian that I could not understand. I just kinda blankly looked at him.
He smiled. "What are you doing here," he asked in english. We just talked, and I discovered that he was merely studying in Italy. He was a chinese student who learned italian and happened to know a fair amount of english.
Yay American education. Anyhow. The rest of the day was pretty bland. Went to class, was still tired, went home, ate lunch, passed out for six hours, woke up, got lost, got lost twice more, then ended up in a friend's apartment for dinner.
Damn, I love Milan.
Thursday, September 4, 2008
Il Metro, Linea Due. Destinazione: Famogosto.
5:43 PM
We were taken on a fifty-person tour of the area around the Duomo. Apparently, they varied in age even among the buildings in the square. However, it was a little difficult to hear the tour guide when you're thirty people back. Andrea and I realized that we were in some ancient castle... and had no f-ing clue about what it was called, when it was built, or even its historical significance. Thanks, IES. Now I have to go back by myself and try to figure it out.
Afterwards, I had the chance to stop by at a friend's apartment, and visit another supermercato. I purchased some cheap-ass Italian shaving cream, some razors, and six liters of water. The water only cost me 1.20 Euros, which is pretty damn good. I just didn't want to drink out of the sink anymore. When we were checking out, and I was being shouldered aside by a three-foot-six Italian grandma with an armful of leeks, I kinda turned my head to the side and zoned out while the seated cashier lazily rang folks up. A few seconds later, I belatedly realized that I was staring at the eye-level condoms the supermercato had strategically placed next to the register.
Oh, I had to bag my own groceries, too. And buy the bags.
I rode the subway by myself for the first time here. Not that that's a big deal- I'm just surprised that I didn't get lost. Nearly, but no. Took a little bit, but now I'm more familiar with the city. Strangely enough, I'm really starting to like it, with all of its smog and general grossness.
Oh, and just now I had two Italians bust into my room for a room check to make sure everything was working, then gasp when they saw that I was half-naked.
Looks like I'm gonna have to get back into the gym.
We were taken on a fifty-person tour of the area around the Duomo. Apparently, they varied in age even among the buildings in the square. However, it was a little difficult to hear the tour guide when you're thirty people back. Andrea and I realized that we were in some ancient castle... and had no f-ing clue about what it was called, when it was built, or even its historical significance. Thanks, IES. Now I have to go back by myself and try to figure it out.
Afterwards, I had the chance to stop by at a friend's apartment, and visit another supermercato. I purchased some cheap-ass Italian shaving cream, some razors, and six liters of water. The water only cost me 1.20 Euros, which is pretty damn good. I just didn't want to drink out of the sink anymore. When we were checking out, and I was being shouldered aside by a three-foot-six Italian grandma with an armful of leeks, I kinda turned my head to the side and zoned out while the seated cashier lazily rang folks up. A few seconds later, I belatedly realized that I was staring at the eye-level condoms the supermercato had strategically placed next to the register.
Oh, I had to bag my own groceries, too. And buy the bags.
I rode the subway by myself for the first time here. Not that that's a big deal- I'm just surprised that I didn't get lost. Nearly, but no. Took a little bit, but now I'm more familiar with the city. Strangely enough, I'm really starting to like it, with all of its smog and general grossness.
Oh, and just now I had two Italians bust into my room for a room check to make sure everything was working, then gasp when they saw that I was half-naked.
Looks like I'm gonna have to get back into the gym.
Wednesday, September 3, 2008
Orientation... and beyond!
Time: 5:06 PM.
Location: Collegio di Milano, in my air-conditioned room. Hell. Yes.
I finally figured out how to use the air conditioning, so I'm gonna take this opportunity to do some bloggage.
Orientation was... really cool. I met a whole bunch of new people, including four other Santa Clarans. Surprise! But they're a good bunch...
It was at a "farm hostel". In other words, our meetings and dinners had a very rustic feel to it due to the random farm implements hung up on the walls, as well as old sewing machines in every lobby. Oh, and I can't forget the wagon wheels strategically placed every so often.
There was also a beautiful, hotel-like pool with a diving board. Needless to say, our breaks generally consisted of lying out poolside in various stages of undress. But I managed to avoid wearing the speedo, although it was damn tempting.
We took walks through the vineyards as well, and some of the girls decided to sample wine-grapes. Most of them weren't impressed. We "frolicked and romped" through every vineyard we could find, however, because it was exciting for most of us. I've never frolicked through a vineyard. Cherry farm, yes, but never a vineyard.
Location: Collegio di Milano, in my air-conditioned room. Hell. Yes.
I finally figured out how to use the air conditioning, so I'm gonna take this opportunity to do some bloggage.
Orientation was... really cool. I met a whole bunch of new people, including four other Santa Clarans. Surprise! But they're a good bunch...
It was at a "farm hostel". In other words, our meetings and dinners had a very rustic feel to it due to the random farm implements hung up on the walls, as well as old sewing machines in every lobby. Oh, and I can't forget the wagon wheels strategically placed every so often.
There was also a beautiful, hotel-like pool with a diving board. Needless to say, our breaks generally consisted of lying out poolside in various stages of undress. But I managed to avoid wearing the speedo, although it was damn tempting.
We took walks through the vineyards as well, and some of the girls decided to sample wine-grapes. Most of them weren't impressed. We "frolicked and romped" through every vineyard we could find, however, because it was exciting for most of us. I've never frolicked through a vineyard. Cherry farm, yes, but never a vineyard.
Orientation itself was pretty boring. A whole lot of yapping and reading, some of which I'm sure was important but that I probably missed.
As soon as we drove back to the city, they made the collegio kids grab their stuff and hop right back on the (special) bus. Like everything else in Milan, the Collegio was fugly on the outside, and very nice on the inside. So check this... the dorms are completely surrounded by a fence. You have to ring a bell on the fence so the doorman will let you in. You check your key with the doorman when you leave and retrieve it when you return. There's a foosball table, a ping-pong table, a chessboard, and a huge home theater system downstairs in the various lobbies, and an extremely nice gym.
I'm starting to like this gig... we even got invited to play some calcio with the Italians. It will be interesting to get my ass handed to me in a foreign country.
As soon as we drove back to the city, they made the collegio kids grab their stuff and hop right back on the (special) bus. Like everything else in Milan, the Collegio was fugly on the outside, and very nice on the inside. So check this... the dorms are completely surrounded by a fence. You have to ring a bell on the fence so the doorman will let you in. You check your key with the doorman when you leave and retrieve it when you return. There's a foosball table, a ping-pong table, a chessboard, and a huge home theater system downstairs in the various lobbies, and an extremely nice gym.
I'm starting to like this gig... we even got invited to play some calcio with the Italians. It will be interesting to get my ass handed to me in a foreign country.
Monday, September 1, 2008
Arrival
10:51 AM, GMT +1
I'm exhausted. I've been up since 11 AM PT, and I've had two egg mcmuffins, a bread roll, a danish, two servings of wannabe orange chicken, a tray of airplane food, and a danish that was about 2 square inches. I am tired.
I'm in Milan, in a "student lounge" room that's smaller than my dorm room, smelling like a pair of old, wet socks. Covered in deoderant. And I'm waiting for the bus to take me to a farm for orientation. A farm.
What can I say about Milan? It's a city. It's a city with an ugly exterior, but also an ugly interior.
I'm preparing to conquer it very soon. Armed with nought but my wit and a 2-megapixel camera (thanks mom), I shall create a beautiful side of this ugly, ugly city.
I'm exhausted. I've been up since 11 AM PT, and I've had two egg mcmuffins, a bread roll, a danish, two servings of wannabe orange chicken, a tray of airplane food, and a danish that was about 2 square inches. I am tired.
I'm in Milan, in a "student lounge" room that's smaller than my dorm room, smelling like a pair of old, wet socks. Covered in deoderant. And I'm waiting for the bus to take me to a farm for orientation. A farm.
What can I say about Milan? It's a city. It's a city with an ugly exterior, but also an ugly interior.
I'm preparing to conquer it very soon. Armed with nought but my wit and a 2-megapixel camera (thanks mom), I shall create a beautiful side of this ugly, ugly city.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)