I Can't Stand 'em!

This will be short:

Singing in the Rain, is a fantastic film in any weather. It is also very much worth it on the big screen. To everyone who had the pleasure of seeing this movie, you should now join me in a sing along version that will be playing all day tomorrow as I pack my life for my move back to MN.

It's Raining _____! Water....

Thunder storm!

So once upon a time, I decided that after having dinner at Kris's house, that I really should go feed the cats. So I walk back to my apartment, and decide that driving wouldn't be that bad of an idea- even though it's nice out and I should have some more exercise, but it's late, I'll drive.

Thank the lord.

Seriously, I'm petting the cats, and suddenly BOOM!
Thunderstrum. And it's pouring like no tomorrow. First thought: Woah. Gnarly. Second thought: Good thing I brought my car. Third thought: Then again, at this point I'd be soaked to the bone getting to my car. #lifeprobs

But I dodged the true rain bullet and managed to get back without too much wringing of clothes. Doesn't mean it couldn't have happened.

"I Was Making a Lasagne! (For One)"

Singing duets with Justin Feit must be one of the best ways to pass a work day. Seriously. I think we could go on tour, but it would make Hannah Montana and Miley Cyrus break up for jealousy. We sat in the team room for about an hour stuffing name tags for SSI singing our creative loosely covered renditions of Flight of the Concords.  Good use of time? Absolutely. My only regret is that Cadi and Kris missed our version of "The Most Beautiful Girl" by about 35 seconds. So that's a bummer. But we enjoyed it, and art is really for the artist most of the time.

"I'm not crying... it's just the rain on my face"

It rained!  And other than standing around watching it pour for 45 minutes, we just admired the after affects of a good rain storm on both the heat and my hair. As the rain fell, my hair grew... just like the grass except exponential curls. Woe.  But that's ok, because it's closer to 70 than 100.  Winners. Except for the person sitting behind me in a theater... Then that sucks.

Remind me, I have an amusing story about answering phones and what you should learn about that.

The Tragic End of Smokey Twlight-the Bear from Bath and Bodyworks

When it rains, it indeed does pour. Holy cats and dogs of the thunderheads. And I'm the kind of person who gladly frolics in the rain when the opportunity presents itself, but you'd better be packing scuba gear for this kind of storm. We're talking more than cats and dogs falling from the sky, this is a whole zoo and a wildlife sanctuary on top of it. Seriously. We don't have vast windows in our apartment, and due to being at the end of the hall there's this funny little alcove thing that basically keeps our room hidden from everything except the bicycle rack, and it was serious business watching this storm blow in. Bring your poncho and your hip waders, you are going to get wet.

Which brings me to the point where I have to go out in this downpour. [Note: part of the following paragraph with be overly dramatic. Please read accordingly]. Remember the dog sitting gig? Oh yeah, well there's one more pooping party to go for the day, and it's to the point in this storm that I'm thinking, "Hmmm...the benefits of getting drenched.  I could walk over there.. that way it wouldn't matter if I got wet taking the dog out. Or I could drive the block and a half and attempt to save a few square inches of clothing to wipe the rainwater from my eyes by the time I get back. I opted for the drive and a miracle.

This is the point in the story where God took pity on me and said, ok fine, but you'd better be nice. So the rain slowed to a more realistic thunderstorm pace and I took the dog outside. Nothing too exciting there except I still got wet and it's a good thing I wore flip flops instead of real shoes.

Now for the tragic scene. Since there was just no feasible way to get any suitable dog exercise in the house, Rudy did something unforgivable. She slaughtered the closest bear. Not a real bear, but in the imaginations of the children this could have been the most ferocious bear in all of Yellowstone. But alas, this smallish dog really go the better of him this time. I heard this strange noise coming from the sun room. And not sure where the lights were, I looked to see Rudy, in ready-to-play position, stuffed animal between her front paws. Oh. No. Uh.... "Rudy...(warning tone)" and this escalates into me running around the house trying to convince the dog that this bear was not in fact a dog toy, and rather should have belonged to me. Time elapse cameras would show something a long the lines of a blur of two figure running after each other followed by extremely intense staring contests.  After several minutes, I managed to distract her long enough to rescue the now deflated carcass of the once pleasantly huggable bear. Poor Smokey. Just not a good day. I do hope that this hasn't crushed the dreams of the youngins of the household.

The moral of this story is don't leave your shit where it doesn't belong.

Or what I'm going to take from it.

It's a Straight Line

Oh the adventures you'll have! And Iowa is no different.

Damnit, I'm already lying in this post. No good. Ok, deep breath, try again.

Let's start from the beginning. Quick version is I made it all the way to St. Pete from KC and had to drive through Iowa to get here. For those of you with Reader's Digest appetites, that was a quick meal. Happy to oblige. Now for the rest of you voracious readers (get it? It rhymes with eaters...  which is a continuation of the digest pun... oh never mind.)

So after I woke up, I'm sure you all will be relieved to know that I finished the first season of Mad Men. It was concerning, I know, but I managed to squeeze in that one last episode before I threw everything in the car and bolted.

Side note, I am forever glad that I make badass playlists. That's the only way this car ride works. And I loudly sand to Gina and Daniele's album. Forgot about them? I never do. Amazing. Always.

I have decided that instead of telling you about the trip (well there's not a lot to say) I thought I would play the license plate game a la blog. This involves me telling you things about what I've done in each state listed. (I probably forgot one or two, but this is most of the ones I saw). I'll include either a fun fact, short story (of the shortest variety), or what happened while driving through said state today. It should make this a little more entertaining.

Kansas: My high school was on the Missouri side of the state line between MO and KS. Consequently, there were lots of people who lived in KS instead. It also meant that for every day of HS, I was in two states at some point during the day.

Louisiana: I've never been here. Anyone want to go?

Minnesota: When MNers tell me where they are from, I often tune out and insert the words "The Cities" instead of whatever town they actually say. Offensive? Maybe. Also, Cadi maybe on to something with the MN driver thing. Iowans may not like to turn on their lights, but MN people make U-turns from wrong lanes, in native lands. Seriously, didn't have any "Let's call the police with their license plate number" moments until I hit the MN border. Scary.

Illinois: Last year, I think I was in IL 4 times over the course of the season. If you like math, that's about 9 hours from MN each way. So 72 hours traveling back and forth from IL, suits in tow. Only one of those times did we actually get stopped in somewhere other than our destination for the night.

Tennessee:I remember going to Nashville for something, and staying in what was impressed upon me as a very cool hotel, but I don't remember anything but the atrium and the abundance of shrubbery.

Missouri: I live there. Uh, that's a fun fact right?

Utah: I went to Park City the summer after the Olympics and there are two things that I would like to bring up. 1) The ski/beret hat that I bought, and still wear. And 2) one of my favorite bookstores of all time is called Dolly's-right near the condo we stayed in. They have several cats in the store and one of them likes to sit by the cash register and greet the masses.

Michigan: Been there. Done that. Know lots of people who live there. I hear Karaoke is a smash #lovefest.

Nebraska: Ah, what isn't to love about Nebraska? Phil says that it's the greatest, minus Rupert of course. I think there are so many stories to be told about Nebraska. To, from, there. Just all of it. AFA 2011.

Arkansas: So one of my favorite people of all time grew up there and still has a fondness for the place, it must be ok. I went once. I remember driving around really curvy roads and looking through really dorky/nerdy brochures about some "paths of Clinton" or something like that... Yup, that's what I've got.

Iowa: I considered leaving this one blank for emphasis. But since I spent so much of my day slogging through it, I thought I would at least try. First of all: It only rains in Iowa. Sure it looked cloudy all day, but it didn't start raining until the minute I crossed the boarder. Boo that. Second: What's worse than Iowa? Iowa when it's raining. Third: Iowa, in an attempt to get back at me for verbally bashing her decided to play this game. It's called, make sure you can only ever pay attention to your windshield wipers game. Sound like fun? Here's how you play. When it's only sprinkling, you put on the wipers on a nice slow tick-tock pace. But by the time you set that, there's this torrential down pour when no matter how fast your wipers are going you still can't see the road in front of you. Then it's sprinkling again and you still can't see the road because of how fast your wipers are going (blur much?). Repeat process. The worst. And lastly, I had the pleasure of stopping in Story City for gas. Jealous? I expected as much. But it's just like St. Peter!!!!  Well, minus the sign that said, "Story to tell." But there was a Happy Chef, and a gas station, and an RV sales lot.. Ok that last one is not like SP, but you get the point. Two Happy Chef sightings in a day? How delicious is that? Mayhaps not, but I was looking for anything to make Iowa sound exciting.

And that's my life. All of it. I'm zonked, so I'm peacin out for the night. Work in the morning-bound to be an adventure.

Venice: Part Two! Let there be food.

Ok ok. Strike two. I get it. I'm (again) so sorry that I haven't posted since Tuesday, but for some strange reason, they couple this thing called 'study' with this other thing called 'abroad' and I am forced to do both. So that's real life.

VENICE! Part two!

Saturday was the day of food. We woke up at a reasonable hour and grabbed some breakfast before catching a bus (and by that I mean a boat. It's a boat bus) to Murano which is an island in Venice that specializes in glass. So fancy magees, we eventually figure out how this boatbus system works and wait by the dock for our ride. Get on the boat (sing I'm on a Boat part two) and go for 45 minutes until we arrive at the island. This also involves making sure that we get off at the right stop because our Hostel gave us a special little card for a free glass blowing show and such. We get off at the right stop, wander for about 3 minutes and run right into this seemingly-non-entrance-like entrance.  So, on a whim, we walk in to a completely deserted glass store and marvel and the wonders found within. After a few minutes a woman came in and escorted us to a back room where there were several people watching the glass master and assistants make stunning things. At the moment they were collectively working on a rooster (someone had ordered 24 of them....  good.) but eventually he just made a simply glass horse. But the deal is that one moment it looked like a smouldering ball of hot glass, and the next it was a horse standing on it's hind legs on the table. It was amazing. Then he took a piece of paper and put it on the horse's legs and Whoosh! It burst into flame. Careful children, do no touch.

After we purchased things in the magical glass room, we wandered around various other glass shops until we found a small hidden restaurant.  There I ordered basically linguini with king crab and it came out the most beautiful plate I think I've ever seen.  And it was one of the best things I've had in Italy. Not even a joke. We ended up waiting a long time for the check, but the guy doing dishes kept blowing kisses my way, and although it was kind of creepy, it was funny too.

We shopped and shopped and eventually made our way back to the hostel by way of another boatbus.  Then we met the delightful Bissen family for dinner.  We walked into this Italian place basically down the street from our hostel, and I endeavored to try the black cuttle fish. Remember that guy I met in the airport? Michael? He said to try it if I had the opportunity, and here I was. So there I went.

To be fair, this dish looked like bits of tire chopped up and covered in tar. That is not an understatement. But you know you only live once, and sometimes you just have to eat what you have. And I'm so glad I did. It was absolutely delicious. Granted, it was not much for date food (that whole black teeth thing) but I throughly enjoyed it.

And after a delicious meal with good company, the three of us went out to a wine bar and enjoyed our last night in Venice with red wine and chocolate. Winning? Yes. Then back to the hostel for a hostel game of war.

Fast forward.  Minus that one time that some strange beeping noise went off at 5 in the morning, we slept well and got up and went out to enjoy our last day in Venice. To our surprise, the city had partially flooded. Now I'm talking a good several inches of water coving the piazza by St. Mark's. There were lines of people avoiding the water by walking on these nifty little foot bridge things and we made our way inside the Basilica. Uh, the floor was wet there too. But after about 500 years, I suppose nothing is surprising and mass was still going on. Boy oh boy oh boy was it pretty. This is a place where you just walk around dumbfounded because everything is so amazingly gorgeous. There was a choir, there was incense, there was an astounding amount of art. It was fantastic.

Back out side, do the rouser by a lion statue (no big deal), and play in the rain for a bit and off to buy more gifts and enjoy our last lovely moments in a stunning city. Exhausted but culturally filled, we got on the plane with a beautiful men's soccer team, and headed back to Rome. Unfortunately, they had to make a connecting flight and didn't stay.  That was the saddest part of my weekend.

And now I am walking out the door to go to Florence with my Italian High Renaissance class. Wish me luck, I've got a presentation tomorrow.  I'll try to update you on my life (you know, now that I've escaped the library) on Sunday.

The Water-skpades

So in other news, Rome floods.

But seriously, we're talking the cracks between the cobblestones can no longer keep your feet dry, in fact, the cobblestones are now under water completely. And this is all from one little bitty baby thunderstorm last night. As in for the first time, maybe ever, I woke up because of a storm.  Then I thought to myself, "it's a thunderstorm in Rome!" and curled up in a little ball and went back to sleep. However thanks to that extra large thunderclap a a brief spurt of hail, I was at least semi conscious for the next hour ish. But in my semi-conscious state I had a wonderful spontaneous dream reunion with Kaitlin. As magical as it was, it is only a tiny fraction of how blissful our real reunion will be. And that's a fact.

So eventually I got up, and due to Erica's persistence, I watched a video that she took of our bathroom this morning. For those of you following along, our bathroom has been a source of semi-constant irritation for those of us living here. And today's mishap involved both the shower drain and the toilet water gurgling. Not just like a swish-swish gurgle, like a full on volcanically ominous cauldron a la toilet. So that was fun.

And as far as adventures to class, we had the surprise of noticing the street-sized puddles as well as the nice little mudbanks that had formed by all crosswalks over night. How? I'm placing money that Charles has something to do with this, but I don't want to assume too much. So half puddle leaping (that's different than puddle jumping which involves landing in the puddles, puddle leaping has the distinct goal of trying to avoid the puddles), half mud skating, I made it all the way to class. Exciting no? Welcome to Rome-soggy edition. It's very different from the frozen version that MN usually offers, but you know, hydration in any form.

And now I'm patiently wading (punny) for my parents to smoke signal me when they get to their apartment. (I suppose I should say something like, "Oh yeah, my parents are coming to visit me for the week!" but I figured you all would figure it out soon enough. You're clever people.) But I'm afraid that the smoke signal technology is a little short circuited with the whole wet Rome thing. So we'll see how that goes. Other than that it's a regularly planned Thursday! And that means blues with the roomies tonight should the weather cooperate. Here's to hoping!