Life After Italy
One of my future goals is to have such an exciting life that I simply do not have time to stop and think about it.
This happened to me in Italy, unsurprisingly. Those of you who kept up with le mie avventure nell’Italia probably witnessed my abject failure at updating my Blogspot account. I’ve already made my apologies for that, but I’m not sure I needed to. I’m a firm believer in the face-to-face story. Some of my favorite tales are absolutely impossible to convey in any other medium. “Have you experienced a treadmill lately?” is probably the best example of this, but I’m sure there are others.
I can’t begin to sum up my Italian experience in any sort of pithy way, even though that’s how I usually try to express myself. I went through a kind of intense transformation internally and externally, and learned not a little about myself.
Pithy not being an option, here is a bulleted list:
- Social is what I am. I cannot be around people I find interesting on at least some primal level and not want to interact with them.
I began this program fully expecting to hate everyone in it, save of course for Max Working. This impression persisted for at least twenty-four hours. I told Max that I had plenty of friends already at UChicago and that making more on this trip was not a goal of mine. Max, who knows me way better than I gave him credit for, replied, “Dude, you can’t not be around people for more than an hour.”
- I am pretty damn good at being social.
It’s not Hitchcock. It might be UChicago, but for whatever reason, I am good at making friends when I decide to do so. I must only use this power to annoy. Dan told me that I was the first nerd he’d seen that made being nerdy seem cool. (Dan’s opinion may or may not be valid, as he was formerly the number 3-ranked Golden-Eye player in the world.) I have managed to recruit him (and four others) into the Snell-Hitchcock Scav ranks.
- When my brain works, it works differently from most other people’s.
I have a semi-photographic memory. I say this because I can remember exactly where the secret 1-Up is in World 1-1 of Super Mario Bros. (four steps to the right of the pipe that, if entered, enables you to skip half the level. Side note: Do not enter this pipe. You miss out on two power-up blocks and a star. The extra coins are not worth it, unless you’re speed-running.) I could not, however, remember who my SOSC teacher was my first year of college. I can remember what the fastest monkey on land is (the Patas Monkey, which runs at a speed of 35 mph in short bursts) but I cannot remember how to balance a chemical equation (even though I got a 780 on the SAT II, a 5 in AP Chem, and was seriously considering being a chemistry major in high school.) I can recall inane and obscure facts about comic books, literature, and most pop culture, but I am utterly incapable of tying a bow tie.
When we were in Prague, I bought one of those Communist hats. (Yes, I am a shitty American tourist.) Anyway, this hat, that brought me sooo much glee, later brought me equal amounts of grief. I got stuck in this hat.
See, the hat has these two shoe-string type things that you’re supposed to knot up when it gets cold. I tried a butterfly knot first, but as I couldn’t really see what I was doing (the hat obstructed my vision) it failed. After several minutes of frustrated knotting and un-knotting, I settled upon a simple double-knot.
In the evening, when we arrived at Harrison’s swank hotel, I discovered that I could not get the hat off. The next fifteen minutes were…embarrassing, until a combination of Dan and Ariel’s efforts managed to extricate me. And Caitlin caught the whole thing on camera. I was asked the question, "Why didn't you tie a bow tie?" by the teary-eyed, laughing hysterically Max Working and could only shrug in response.
And then there was the time when I filmed a documentary in the style of The Office , or when I met two Romanians named Marciello and Marcello, or saw a secret Vatican hospital and then got kicked out of it after playing with an iron lung -- So I guess what I’m trying to say is, I have a lot of catching up to do in terms of reminiscing?
This happened to me in Italy, unsurprisingly. Those of you who kept up with le mie avventure nell’Italia probably witnessed my abject failure at updating my Blogspot account. I’ve already made my apologies for that, but I’m not sure I needed to. I’m a firm believer in the face-to-face story. Some of my favorite tales are absolutely impossible to convey in any other medium. “Have you experienced a treadmill lately?” is probably the best example of this, but I’m sure there are others.
I can’t begin to sum up my Italian experience in any sort of pithy way, even though that’s how I usually try to express myself. I went through a kind of intense transformation internally and externally, and learned not a little about myself.
Pithy not being an option, here is a bulleted list:
- Social is what I am. I cannot be around people I find interesting on at least some primal level and not want to interact with them.
I began this program fully expecting to hate everyone in it, save of course for Max Working. This impression persisted for at least twenty-four hours. I told Max that I had plenty of friends already at UChicago and that making more on this trip was not a goal of mine. Max, who knows me way better than I gave him credit for, replied, “Dude, you can’t not be around people for more than an hour.”
- I am pretty damn good at being social.
It’s not Hitchcock. It might be UChicago, but for whatever reason, I am good at making friends when I decide to do so. I must only use this power to annoy. Dan told me that I was the first nerd he’d seen that made being nerdy seem cool. (Dan’s opinion may or may not be valid, as he was formerly the number 3-ranked Golden-Eye player in the world.) I have managed to recruit him (and four others) into the Snell-Hitchcock Scav ranks.
- When my brain works, it works differently from most other people’s.
I have a semi-photographic memory. I say this because I can remember exactly where the secret 1-Up is in World 1-1 of Super Mario Bros. (four steps to the right of the pipe that, if entered, enables you to skip half the level. Side note: Do not enter this pipe. You miss out on two power-up blocks and a star. The extra coins are not worth it, unless you’re speed-running.) I could not, however, remember who my SOSC teacher was my first year of college. I can remember what the fastest monkey on land is (the Patas Monkey, which runs at a speed of 35 mph in short bursts) but I cannot remember how to balance a chemical equation (even though I got a 780 on the SAT II, a 5 in AP Chem, and was seriously considering being a chemistry major in high school.) I can recall inane and obscure facts about comic books, literature, and most pop culture, but I am utterly incapable of tying a bow tie.
When we were in Prague, I bought one of those Communist hats. (Yes, I am a shitty American tourist.) Anyway, this hat, that brought me sooo much glee, later brought me equal amounts of grief. I got stuck in this hat.
See, the hat has these two shoe-string type things that you’re supposed to knot up when it gets cold. I tried a butterfly knot first, but as I couldn’t really see what I was doing (the hat obstructed my vision) it failed. After several minutes of frustrated knotting and un-knotting, I settled upon a simple double-knot.
In the evening, when we arrived at Harrison’s swank hotel, I discovered that I could not get the hat off. The next fifteen minutes were…embarrassing, until a combination of Dan and Ariel’s efforts managed to extricate me. And Caitlin caught the whole thing on camera. I was asked the question, "Why didn't you tie a bow tie?" by the teary-eyed, laughing hysterically Max Working and could only shrug in response.
And then there was the time when I filmed a documentary in the style of The Office , or when I met two Romanians named Marciello and Marcello, or saw a secret Vatican hospital and then got kicked out of it after playing with an iron lung -- So I guess what I’m trying to say is, I have a lot of catching up to do in terms of reminiscing?