Today is Valentine's Day, and holy moses, do these Italians know how to prove it. Besides the usual chocolate, flowers, jewellery vibe, the public displays of affection are what makes this holiday truly Italian. They say French is the language of love... I think this is because the Italians are too busy macking each other to talk. There is NO skaam - people mounting each other on Vespas, heavy petting on the tram, making out on the pavement outside schools... way to rub it in, guys. Nice.
I went for lunch with Franci, her aunt "Mimi", her boss and colleague, today to a restaurant called zerotrecinque (035) - fancy, but reasonable, definitely a place I'll be visiting again :) The place was swarming with couples getting a V-day lunch together during their breaks - sharing tiramisu and drinking wine at 1pm - sickening. Despite my efforts, Mimi insisted on paying for me, a gesture that made me feel truly welcome.
Rotary calls this period "February syndrome" - a time when the student feels like they've hit a bit of a wall: I seem to be stuck with the language, missing my friends and family more than ever, and finding an excuse to bitch about everything - school, host-family, money, holidays... I will sprinkle brown sugar on my cappucino, and think of my mom, smell a perfume that reminds of Gabi Stein, or see a jersey I want to buy for Adam Brews. Silly things.
On the school side, things have been rather easy the past two weeks - with "extra credit" courses, I have only had to attend about 3 days a week, until 12pm. The other day though, I was devastated when I was told that I would in fact have to stay for a 4 hour Italian lecture on Dante (for those of you who are unsure of who this nerd is, look him up - might take you a few days...)
After 3 hours of being the most bored I have EVER been, the lecturer announces that she is finished early and we are excused to go home - the whole theatre stood and cheered, clapping and whooping, but were suddenly shut down by another teacher who shouts, "Wait, everybody sit down, I have some questions."
Below the collective moan of the some 200 students, one of my friends pipes up, "F*ck you, you stupid bitch!", but loud enough for a teacher just in front of her to hear, who, surprisingly, burst into laughter as a sign of agreement. Ah, I love Italy.
Now, onto more exciting things. I caught a train to Milan this weekend for a meeting on Saturday afternoon, and organised to sleep over at one of the exchange student's host-families. I was SO excited to see the exchanges again who ALL live in Milan, so we were invited to "Bar Magenta" when our meeting ended. We sat through this meeting, detailing the strict rules and policies about drinking, and jumped at the first chance to leave and meet the others. Needless to say, alcohol came into the mix, two of the girls took it too far, and vomitted all over themselves. One of the girls got so drunk that she was taken to hospital and put on a saline drip. Idiot. Anyway, the responsible thing was done, and the girls' host-parents were called to take them home. [This takes "I'm gonna chunder everywah on my gap yah" to a new level]
The chairman, let's call him Voldemancina for anonymity, emailed us and told us that none of the new exchange students (keep in mind not all of us were even drinking) can go to Venice for carnivale this weekend. So unfair, its actually a joke. This guy has a reputation for being an absolute douchebag - don't know HOW he managed to get this position.
Despite looking after the girls, and getting Venice revoked, I actually had an amazing night. These exchange students, I swear, I've never loved a group of people so much in such a short time. One of them made a good point - we all get along so well because we're all exchange students - a type of personality that seeks adventure and grabs every opportunity.
Sunday was spend with two of the Aussies - legends - shopping and eating (my two favourite Italian hobbies) and sightseeing (but the stairs to the top of the Duomo were closed due to the ice... next time I guess.) The Duomo is such a beautiful cathedral - the stained glass windows absolutely blew my mind. 
WTF are those dead priests JCing (just chillin') on the side though? So hectic. Heccers '09.
The only thing I regret not doing on this trip was soeking for Abercrombie and Fitch (Hannah, note: Not Abercrombie and Finch.) where, apparently, real male models are the shop clerks, and, occasionally, walk around topless. Something to look forward to :D
In the piazza outside the Duomo, an African man selling bracelets, and by that I mean coloured string, stalked us for 5 minutes trying to sell them to us. Eventually, he drops a "for free, for free" and runs in front of us to block our path, even after we declined his offer 13 times. Apparently, the one I got was good luck. Didn't stop him from asking for a "small donation" afterwards, though. For free, my ass.
In the piazza outside the Duomo, an African man selling bracelets, and by that I mean coloured string, stalked us for 5 minutes trying to sell them to us. Eventually, he drops a "for free, for free" and runs in front of us to block our path, even after we declined his offer 13 times. Apparently, the one I got was good luck. Didn't stop him from asking for a "small donation" afterwards, though. For free, my ass.
A Valentine's joke to end. (Italians don't know how to do knock knock jokes. Serious problem.) Between me anddd...Michel Comitis. Because he hasn't had a mention yet :) He loves the Maccabees. We are going to their concert in London together. (When he books his ticket.)
Meg: Knock knock.
Michel: Who's there?\
Meg: Obama.
Michel: Obama who?
Meg: Ooooo baaaa maaaa seee-eeee-elf, don't wanna be, ooooo baaa maa-aaa-a seeelf, anymoooore.
(Tribute to Whitney Houston (you have a (cocaine) problem) )
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