(no subject)
Getting a good night's sleep tonight has paid off. I feel chipper and ready to tackle a few days worth of Roman siteseeing before I high-ho it back home.
As stated in my last entry, we did go for a round two at the Blue Room, but this time fully prepared and ready for action. Again, the house music was "blazin" and as always us RISD kids started a stir. We started dancing prematurly, Megan, me, Nico, Alex, Susie, Internet and Prescott and Susan showed up after a while. Even the famed Matt Puztizzi made a surprize visit and graced us with his presents for approximately 20 minutes before mysteriously walking off. This time we danced until about 4 in the morning, immitating various pop stars and wizards. Nico and Alex got the guts to hit on some Italian honeys who supposedly asked a lot of questions about me ... best comment: "He looks like Michael Jackson". A mission, of sorts, has now indirectly been accomplished.
House music sure does get a bad wrap in the United States amongst my college elite art peers as it is fairly simplistic; it's almost always in 4-4 time, the same concepts are tackled, yadda yadda yadda. What Americans are not understanding about house music is the physical side of it; it's a fucking WORK OUT. "no wonder they call it trance", said Megan, "I feel high!" you're dancing so much you really do loose sense of reality. While I still find hip-hop fun to dance to, house is just a completely different vibe. Sexual tension is deminished and insanity is emphisized. It's like a Lightning Bolt concert minus the egos of hundreds of art kids trying to prove how "Real" or "crazy" they are. Non offense to Lightning Bolt or their concerts, keep in mind.
We came home starving and I was a little angry as someone poured red wine all over my seafoam Locaste shirt (but not too upset as I bought it used and it had already lost a button). THey wouldn't serve us pizza at the all night place either which was GARBAGE. So Nico made about 5 eggs and then we chowed down on some pancakes thanks to the mix Internet supplied. Then Matt came out of the woodwork and demanded Snoop Dogg. Nobody wanted to get beheaded that night so the king's request was fulfilled ... Murder was the case that they gave me + Vermont's finest + sweaty dance hall Americans in Europe = PRICELESS.
The next day we were, predictibly, tired. So we spent the majority of it on the island on the tiber catching some sun. Logically, our clothes were minimal; shorts, t-shirt, flip-flops, which may be the status quo in the United States, but for Italian Fashionistos is a BIG NO-NO. But as I've learned from my travels, dressing quirky usually works to your advantage rather then detracting. So after we got some great falafell we walked through Campo dei Fiori and got stared down by three Italian Regazzi's. We did the logical thing and approached them.
As it turned out, they were Sicilian which made us so excited. Besides the one Bigot in Palermo, Sicilians are quite possibly the warmest people on Earth. We went out to dinner with some other Sicliian girls in Palermo and really their demenour is so gentle, fun and warm. Siclian smiles are quite possibly the best in the world. These girls were no different; excited, flattered, gentle, funny, stunning. We invited them to our gallery and amaturish Italian was exchanged with amaturish English. Well, Nick and Alex handled themselves pretty well, I think I said some pretty non-grammatical sentences, but I was able to comment on Boston and let them know that Alley McBeal is a fictional character ... she doesn't actually live in Boston.
We exchanged numbers and we might be seeing them again. We texted later that night but it got too late to make plans. Instead we went to the Restaurant Africa, the best Ethiopean restaurant I've ever been to (one of the only Ethiopean restaurants I've ever been to). The meal was great, but I got stupid and ordered the complimentary bowl plate that was sort of gimmicy and not really delicious. It was missing a lot of good Ethiopean spices. But it was still above par and I did get to play with fire, so it's all good.
Ok, off to site see. Later!
As stated in my last entry, we did go for a round two at the Blue Room, but this time fully prepared and ready for action. Again, the house music was "blazin" and as always us RISD kids started a stir. We started dancing prematurly, Megan, me, Nico, Alex, Susie, Internet and Prescott and Susan showed up after a while. Even the famed Matt Puztizzi made a surprize visit and graced us with his presents for approximately 20 minutes before mysteriously walking off. This time we danced until about 4 in the morning, immitating various pop stars and wizards. Nico and Alex got the guts to hit on some Italian honeys who supposedly asked a lot of questions about me ... best comment: "He looks like Michael Jackson". A mission, of sorts, has now indirectly been accomplished.
House music sure does get a bad wrap in the United States amongst my college elite art peers as it is fairly simplistic; it's almost always in 4-4 time, the same concepts are tackled, yadda yadda yadda. What Americans are not understanding about house music is the physical side of it; it's a fucking WORK OUT. "no wonder they call it trance", said Megan, "I feel high!" you're dancing so much you really do loose sense of reality. While I still find hip-hop fun to dance to, house is just a completely different vibe. Sexual tension is deminished and insanity is emphisized. It's like a Lightning Bolt concert minus the egos of hundreds of art kids trying to prove how "Real" or "crazy" they are. Non offense to Lightning Bolt or their concerts, keep in mind.
We came home starving and I was a little angry as someone poured red wine all over my seafoam Locaste shirt (but not too upset as I bought it used and it had already lost a button). THey wouldn't serve us pizza at the all night place either which was GARBAGE. So Nico made about 5 eggs and then we chowed down on some pancakes thanks to the mix Internet supplied. Then Matt came out of the woodwork and demanded Snoop Dogg. Nobody wanted to get beheaded that night so the king's request was fulfilled ... Murder was the case that they gave me + Vermont's finest + sweaty dance hall Americans in Europe = PRICELESS.
The next day we were, predictibly, tired. So we spent the majority of it on the island on the tiber catching some sun. Logically, our clothes were minimal; shorts, t-shirt, flip-flops, which may be the status quo in the United States, but for Italian Fashionistos is a BIG NO-NO. But as I've learned from my travels, dressing quirky usually works to your advantage rather then detracting. So after we got some great falafell we walked through Campo dei Fiori and got stared down by three Italian Regazzi's. We did the logical thing and approached them.
As it turned out, they were Sicilian which made us so excited. Besides the one Bigot in Palermo, Sicilians are quite possibly the warmest people on Earth. We went out to dinner with some other Sicliian girls in Palermo and really their demenour is so gentle, fun and warm. Siclian smiles are quite possibly the best in the world. These girls were no different; excited, flattered, gentle, funny, stunning. We invited them to our gallery and amaturish Italian was exchanged with amaturish English. Well, Nick and Alex handled themselves pretty well, I think I said some pretty non-grammatical sentences, but I was able to comment on Boston and let them know that Alley McBeal is a fictional character ... she doesn't actually live in Boston.
We exchanged numbers and we might be seeing them again. We texted later that night but it got too late to make plans. Instead we went to the Restaurant Africa, the best Ethiopean restaurant I've ever been to (one of the only Ethiopean restaurants I've ever been to). The meal was great, but I got stupid and ordered the complimentary bowl plate that was sort of gimmicy and not really delicious. It was missing a lot of good Ethiopean spices. But it was still above par and I did get to play with fire, so it's all good.
Ok, off to site see. Later!