Future.

A lot of pressure. Bringing me down. I feel like I've got a weight on my chest.

Stay on Target.

Its raining in Rome again. I can hear the splatter of raindrops hitting the street below through the thin, uninsulated panes of my windows amidst the sputtering of little cars and scooter motors. It's been like this a lot this week, and the temperature has dropped substantially. I'm back to scarves and jackets. Luckily for me, I left my (crappy 5 Euro) umbrella at the restaurant my Grandma and my Dad and I ate at yesterday. Oh well. It isn't like there aren't street vendors at every corner, in ever Metro stairwell, suddenly holding armfuls of umbrellas at the first sight of a raincloud. Only thirty seconds ago they were selling sunglasses.

The same vendors (I'm convinced there are only five of them and they've all learned to teleport) were in Florence today. No thanks, we already have a leopard print umbrella and a nice rain repellent jacket to get us through this drizzle. We can always duck into the Baptistry, or perhaps the Duomo, where the floors are "slick as snot," as my Grandma so eloquently put it, and the ceiling is bare and all the better for it. It is rumored between the three of us that Michaelangelo is somewhere in this church, but we can't find him, and we are in a hurry to get to the train station, so we head back into the rain, but not before listening to a choir sing an unannounced solemn hymn before being shooed away by the security guards. What a shame. It was so beautiful.

Earlier in the day we waited in line for over an hour to see Michaelangelo's David. I made a trip to McDonald's for sinful French fries and a fragola (strawberry) milkshake. It was crowded. The mess of people mingling between one another and pushing against me, plus the clamor of cars and motorcycles trying to drive through already over crowded streets was enough to make me grit my teeth in angst. But upon entering the room where the David is kept, all the stress was gone with my breath as I caught site of the one thing that will never cease to make me stop dead in my tracks. He stands above everyone, placed high upon his pedestal but never appearing abrasive or overbearing, as he is so gently composed. His stance is relaxed and his stare soft but concentrated (the iris of his eyes are in the shape of hearts). One can't help but notice the incredible detail found on the back of his hands and the tops of his feet (both of which are too big for the body). The slightest hint of veins can be seen among the bones and muscles, each softly shadowed in the marble by the glowing lights above him. He is so real, he seems to breathe. None of us really know what he is thinking, but we pretend to.

Dinner at the Wild Boar left us with full stomachs. Getting there was my favorite part, though, following Grandma, our tour guide for the day, with Dad by my side. "The target is moving!" he says playfully, "Stay on target...stay on target..." I respond. It's an inside joke we've developed in reference to Star Wars. We've got a lot of those, I've discovered. The streets of Florence are adorable, and I'd like to go back for a long weekend on my own, I think. Although, I'm not sure it's as enjoyable without loved ones. The bridge that crosses the river offers incredible views of the rolling hills in the distance and the brightly colored, Oh-So-Italian buildings, one right after the other. I'd like to sit on that bridge at sunrise and not be bothered by a single soul.

One giant purple scarf and an unbelievably high priced Belgian waffle with Nutella later, we're back on the train, all tired but laughing until we cry about old Seinfeld episodes we've all seen while the Italians around us no doubt wonder what there is to be so happy about. Eventually we all close our eyes and dose in and out of sleep, frequently woken up by the pressure change that leaves our ears plugged as we speed through tunnels. We are all yawning and I am complaining.
We part ways for the evening. We'll meet tomorrow and explore the ancient parts of Rome, many of which I've seen but will enjoy once again. I have the apartment to myself tonight and it's so quiet. I can hear the family above me shuffling, moving chairs, even sneezing. There seems to be a child in the building with one of those wooden toys that makes a train sound when you blow into it. It goes off every twenty minutes or so. So, I suppose that's what I'll fall asleep to tonight... the neighbors, the rain, and the memories I've got in my head of the day's events which I hope to keep with me forever.

A surprise visit.

Today I walked around Termini for a while, trying to find the right McDonald's where I was supposed to meet my Grandma. I waited for 30 minutes (because I was early) at one of them, but when 4:30 rolled around and she didn't come, I decided to check for another. Two McDonald's later, there she was. I hugged her tight and sat down and I asked her how her flight was. "It was great! It was really great. But ever since I left Indianapolis there's been this guy following me around and making sure I get everywhere on time." I was trying to listen and understand but I was really confused as to who in the world would be following my Grandma around. Then, from the corner of my eye I see this guy walk up. He put what I assumed was some sort of flier down in front of me. As I turn to see who it is, I realize it's my dad! "What?! No!!!" And I leaped up to hug him and of course started bawling. I was so thrilled. I don't think it could have been a better surprise.
The thing he put down on the table in front of me was an old picture of the two of us that I sent him a while ago with a sticky note attached that said, "Missing you! Love, Jess." Next to it he had put today's date and written, "Me too. Love, Dad."


It's been such a nice day ever since then. I walked them to their hotel, which is incredible. I'm gonna have to be spending a lot of time there considering the view and the bath tub. Dad's staying until we leave for Vienna on Monday and I think it's going to be a really fun week.
It's a downer to have school all day tomorrow, but I'm meeting them between classes at Castel Sant'Angelo.

It feels different after seeing my family. I feel like this place is a little more like home. I feel a little more settled in. But it also makes me miss home a lot more. As Spencer said, "it's just a snack to hold you over until dinner."

Trying.

Dalai Lama


Melting Glaciers


Feeling a little low today. I guess the headlines I read when I wake up set the tone for the rest of my day. There is so much bad news. Everywhere. I love reading the news because it makes me feel informed, but it also has a tendency to make me very sad. I remember, on a daily basis, my own insignificance. I can't help but wonder if anything I could do would make a difference. I've decided that the best way to look at life, at least for me, is without a belief that you are guided. I spend too much time looking for the meaning in things, the truth, what's real. When you stop believing that everything is significant, you start seeing things in a more objective way. I feel my senses are heightened when I change my perspective like this. At the same time, the idea of being guided has always given me hope. Giving that up means accepting that I have no meaning in the grand scheme of things, and that my life is disposable.


But I read somewhere that true happiness is had when all hope is gone.

A tightrope.

Extreme

"It was at times like this, full of calm and terror, Potter said, that he felt most connected to himself and his surroundings."

On that note. Found the Colosseum tonight. Went completely the wrong way for Indian food. Found it, though, and then realized we could have easily walked there instead of taking the metro in a big circle. Had amazing canella and fiori di leche gelato. And today, the weather was stunning. I was happy as a lark.

We saw the Forum again today, but we were up close and personal this time. Our tickets are good until tomorrow so I think we'll go IN to the Colosseum, because we haven't done that yet. The Forum itself is of course, beautiful. Sometimes I wish I wasn't here with a bunch of tourists. It's hard to see past the tourist atmosphere and get a real, clear image of the monument in front of you. The aura still shines through, but I have to look a little harder and remove myself from where I am in order to really feel it.

My feet are sore from walking. I'm really missing home tonight. I'm missing wide open spaces. I'm missing the mountains of Colorado and the plains of Kansas.

On a less happy note, the trash here makes me hate my need for consumption.

I think I'll head to bed. Tomorrow I don't have class. This weekend is lay low weekend and Monday is when Grandma visits. So, I have a lot to look forward to.





Spring is in full bloom here. I am always trying to savor the moment, worried I'll let it slip away without tasting it. At the same time, I am always missing home. Bittersweet.

Charlie bit my finger.

I'm curious. Why can't every day be International Women's Day? AND why don't we celebrate this holiday in the States? Yesterday I went to Campo dei Fiori again for food and color and the buzz of the mingling people that makes me grin and was pleasantly surprised by all the polite treatment I received just for being a woman. As if, on this one day, being a woman meant something. The same man that would, today, be trying to grope me or come at me aggressively was offering to weigh my bananas and introducing himself with a handshake. I am not sure how to feel about it. It's precious, sure, but it's also a bit of an insult. I don't want to be honored once a year. I want the right to be treated kindly by men every day, for no particular reason other than it being respectful. We're all on the same playing field, but I don't think that will ever be realized.

Anyway, the market at Campo was lovely, as it usually is. People were selling the bright yellow flowers that come out on Women's Day and so I bought some to show (obviously) my support. I bought fresh tomatoes, two hunks of mozzarella, bananas and some peach juice. There were a lot of people out and about. A lot of the monuments and museums were free for women, and I wish that Angelica and I wouldn't have arrived at the Colosseum 10 minutes after it closed so that we could have taken advantage of the discounts. Instead we went to a Renoir exhibit near the Forum for 5 euro. Worth it but also a bit rushed, as I had to get back home and make dinner for friends. I made a tomato and mozzarella salad drizzled in olive oil and seasoned with salt and pepper and topped with fresh basil. Grilled chicken and pasta, red and white wine, good friends and a few good laughs and full bellies. We went for gelato afterwards, don't worry. I had a mixture of hazelnut, english cream(?), and of course, nutella (I can't stay away from it). Later Becky, Julie and I wandered over to a bar near Termini but left shortly after finishing our drinks because we were cold and tired and...tired. I fell asleep promptly.


Friday I went to Ostia Antica, a well preserved ancient city outside of Rome. It would have been a lot more enjoyable had it not been cold and raining. I think I'll go back and enjoy the ambiance when it's sunny. Liz and I went to Trestevere. She cut my hair before we left so it's a bit shorter now and I looooove it.

Friday morning I was shoved off the Metro at Termini and watched my favorite, beautiful red hat fall between the train and the platform. I was heartbroken, and I spent the whole day trying to let go of the incident, convinced my hat was ripped to shreds somewhere between Termini and Laurentina. On the way home, I spotted my hat on the opposite side of the tracks and was therefore launched back into my intense mourning. My poor hat...looking lonely and pathetic. Yesterday Becky said, "You can't look at it every day and be sad." So, in an act of bravery, she risked her life for me, jumped down onto the tracks (despite my desperate opposition) and grabbed my hat. We were immediately confronted by angry ATAC guards, but it was so anticlimactic since the woman yelling at us didn't speak any English and so all she could get out was, "You can't! Not again!" So we got off with a slap on the wrist, my hat, in perfect condition, and a good story.

Now it's Sunday evening and I've spent the day inside reading, eating and giggling with my roommates. I should have gone outside but I was so comfortable in my room, and I didn't really have anywhere to go because everything here closes on Sundays. I tried doing a bit of travel planning for the next month. I was invited to go to Chinque Terra but declined so I can save money for something I feel a bit more sure about. I've given up on Interlaken until Stacy and I go there because it's just too expensive without a pass. I think maybe we'll make a trip in early May to somewhere warm. By we, I meant Caitlin and me.

I am doing a lot of self searching, and I'm trying to become a better person. That sounds so bland. What I mean is, I feel so uninspired, despite my location in this amazing city and my sense of adventure. I just feel inhibited and washed out and a little empty. I feel like I'm waiting for someone to come along and make my trip what I wanted it to be. I've gotta kick my own ass and remind myself that this is my own trip and no one is going to make it what I don't. I feel, in a way, like I still don't know who I am. By that I mean I am still in a state of constant self criticism, self doubt and self pity. I am not comfortable just being me, I suppose, and I wish I felt inspired by my own being.

Really, the goal is to be happy. I can't really define exactly what I'm looking for but I know it's gotta be within me somewhere. Within me and out there in the skylines and landscapes. I'll let you know when I get there and what I find. In the mean time, I'm still a work in progress. Maybe that will never change.

Spring break comes in a little over a week. My grandma is coming on Monday the 17th and we are leaving the following Monday for Vienna and then we will travel to Prague. I am excited to have family here. I am excited to go outside of Italy. I am excited to take the train!

Well, tomorrow is another Monday and they are so long. Tuesday is longer, though, so I can't complain too much...until it's Tuesday.

Watch this video. It will make your day : http://youtube.com/watch?v=_OBlgSz8sSM

Another Pope Sighting.

Yesterday we attended the 6th European Day for University Students at the Vatican. The pope was in attendance, and although the whole process took three hours, we were blessed by him and connected to University students from all over the world via satellite, including students in Washington D.C. It was really neat. There were so many people packed into this church. A lot of nuns, of course, as there are so many here in Rome. Its nice to be in a room with the Pope. It's not so much that I feel a connection to him or his religion, but it's really neat to feel the electric energy that bounces off the walls when he enters the building. People go crazy. Here, he is everybody's favorite celebrity, and they were chanting his name as he walked off stage, waving graciously.

This week has been a short one. We have located a sushi restaurant near our house that I will be indulging at frequently. Cheap and fresh seafood. Count me in.

I've spent that last two days trying to organize my trips across Europe with Stacy. It's hard to do because a lot of trains, although I have a Eurail pass, require that I make reservations ahead of time, as well. Otherwise, they fill up and I don't get a seat. Unfortunately for us, there is a small charge for reserving seats on a train, and I have to do it in person at Termini. But, I can't do it until 30 days before the train departs. So, I've got some time, but I need to schedule and book the hostels we will be staying in. I am so excited but so drained by the whole situation. It is so hard to plan a trip when we are so far from one another. But, I am really thrilled about going to Switzerland, as I am looking at pictures and hostels and already I am amazed by the scenery (and I hear the chocolate is good, too. Wink, wink. I'll have to bring some home for Grandpa...who'd have ever thought that I, instead of him, would be bringing home the Swiss Chocolate?). I was invited to go to Interlaken next weekend, but it's 200 euro, which is cheap, but I am already planning on staying there for two days with Stacy. The hostels are cheap and the people seem so friendly.

The people here in Rome walk so slowly. Maybe that's why they're always late, hm?

I almost had my wallet stolen a few days ago. We decided to stop at McDonald's for lunch (I know. Smack my wrist.). As we were eating, I set my wallet down on the table next to me. It was in my sight so I figured it would be fine. Before I know it, these two boys walk up to us and are trying to show us some post cards they have laid out on the table. Luckily, I realized that they had laid them OVER my wallet and were getting ready to walk away with it. I shooed them away and promptly put my wallet deep down into my bag and zipped it tightly. Earlier that day, Caitlin had discovered someone's hand in her bag on the Metro. Twice in one day. I suppose it's nice to have that out of the way, though. You live and you learn.

By the way, the fries were good and the shake was amazing. There...it's justified.

It's lovely outside today so I think I will spend some time on the porch doing homework. Spencer and I have a Skype date at 3 pm, and I have to continue planning my travels.

Caitlin is cleaning, Liz is asleep, as she just returned from Barcelona, and I am pretty content, although slightly anxious about the traveling and my homework. At least I got to see the Pope.