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