an amputated thanksgiving

i just found this piece of an old post i never got around to publishing. im too lazy to finish it but i figured id publish it anyway... yeah.


hello all - hope all of your thanksgivings were as splendiferous as mine was.

so i just finished writing a gender studies paper that is, miraculously, without thesis. and for a paper without a thesis, it took me waaaaay too long to write.

i was trying to come up with a metaphore for my thesis-less paper but the only one i could come up with was a headless baby and thats a bit morbid, yes? so i didnt include it. look at my restraint.

anyway so i spent thanksgiving weekend in roma with a bunch of my highschool friends who are studying in europa this semester. (the intelligent ones go home after a semester. and yet... i stay. what have i discovered about myself from this if-then statement.) we are so cosmopolitan. no really. but it was a lot of fun. evan told us stories about st. petersburg that made cairo seem tame. owen got mugged. the riedel's provided obscene amounts of alcohol. good times. rome, btw, is gorgeous. and clean. and orderly. i miss the first world. although owen pretty much calling italy a third world country/cess pitt from hell by the time we left. lots of pigeons. owen called them "flying rats". i think owen was bitter. (dont worry we understand).

anyway i flew in wednesday afternoon and, with the help of VERY exact directions from owen, managed to make my way from the airport to the train station. the old guy sitting across from me on the train kept making awkward eye-contact with me though. swear to god if i hadnt decided to take a "nap" he would have spent the entire train ride staring into the windows of my soul. and then asked me out to dinner. to his villa in florence. where he would show me his world class art collection and teach me italian. too bad he was so old.

anyway so i fled the italian santa clause, dodged this greasy italian guy (surprise!) who literally rushed me when i made a coo-ing noise at his cute dog (apparently italian guys use the dog trick too - first i learn not to make eye contact with strange men. then i learn not to make eye contact with strange dogs) and found myself outside of the train station. now, owen had very specific instructions here. there is a taxi stand directly in front of the train station. i am to go stand in line, and wait for a taxi. so, i go stand in line. this line was like 20 ppl long, and there was not a single taxi in sight. this confused me. actually, it confused everyone in line. we all stared awkwardly at each other for about 5 minutes, and then i decided to take matters into my own hands. the adventurous rachel strikes out into the city of rome. she doesnt speak the language. she doesnt know where she's going. but she's confident it will all work out for the best.

and it did! i eventually found a taxi. after berating myself soundly.

sensible rachel: what the hell are you doing. go back to the train station.
adventurous rachel: no! i dont want to wait in line for an hour when i can just go out and find a taxi on my own
sr: rachel. you dont speak the language. its 9pm. youre dragging a suitcase. where are you going?
ar: i think i see some lights down there... i bet thats a big street. come on. have a little faith
sr: how stupid will you feel when you get killed off on a dirty street in downtown rome bc you were too impatient to wait for a taxi. your tombstone will read: survived the middle east. couldnt survive her own stupidity
ar: be a little more optomistic dear. yours will read: death by boredom

swear to god those are my parents. ive been brainwashed. anyway it did work out - i found a taxi a few blocks down, and when i drove back past the train station on the way to my hotel, i waved at all the poor shmucks still waiting in the taxi line.

oh and the receptionist at my hotel was this big, bald, white guy who was absolutely adorable, didnt speak a word of english and was wearing this leather jacket that said "PHAT FARM" across the back. by far my favorite person in rome.