It's been pretty much 2 weeks of drunken debauchery, culminating in last night's meeting of ALL of Jenny's friends. I found myself in a tiny bar in Italy, with 20 kids, half of whom were from Marin and had either gone to SI or Marin Catholic. When I was introduced to one girl, I asked her where she was from. "Oh, a little town. You've probably never heard of it. Mill Valley?" Jenny fell off her stool. "Beth IS Mill Valley."
The girl looks at me and goes, "Spotswood. Spotswood. Do you have a brother?"
"Uh, yeah. He's right over there."
Screams, yells, hugs, and reunions. God Bless Marin.
My journal that I carry everywhere with me is now filled with the names and e-mail addresses of stunning, well-traveled twenty-one year olds who I've promised party invites to. Greg and Dori claimed to be joining us for an "after dinner drink" and ended up staying till closing. The best thing about Greg trashed is that he in incapable of letting anyone else pay for a drink. He's also incapable of brevity, but it's a small price to pay.
Kate and I have a new game called "Noses Across Italy." At any opportune moment, we've taken to yelling "Noses!" and having someone take our photo, nose to nose. We plan to make a coffee table book from our images, and you'll enjoy a preview when I get home and load this bizarity onto the blog. Noses will continue into the States, so prepare yourselves. We make everyone do noses, and while it sounds weird, the charm of the results are staggering.
I've become disgruntled with the fact that few Italian establishments employ the practice of regular toilet seats. I blame the understandable fear that Italian men, lazy from the drink, will find no need to lift said seat, but those of us of the female persuasion must suffer the uncomfortable and filthy consequences. Kate claims that next time she travels in Italy, she's bringing her own toilet seat.
There's a bar here called Angie's Pub where Alex and I spent New Years, and then recently, we introduced it to Kate, Matt, and Jen. The walls are covered with graffiti in a back room and it looks awesome. In fact, there's a great "noses" in front of a graffiti covered wall that really captures the essence of Angie's. Should you one day find yourself in Florence, go to Angie's Pub and read the walls. I'm responsible for a good square foot, and depending on who you are, there might be specific notes to you personally. My deepest darkest secrets are on that wall. You'll just have to come here to find out.
While wandering around the Uffizzi yesterday, I stood in front of Botticcelli's "The Birth of Venus." Mesmerized by it's size and beauty, I suddenly had a coughing fit, a huge, loud, unstoppable, distracting to others coughing fit. I think security was alerted, thinking it was an elaborate ruse to distract while my accomplice stole some masterpiece. I coughed so hard, my fabulous black hat fell off, and in my haste to pick it up, my purse turned upside down and loudly emptied onto the floor, before a monstrous group of Japanese tourists. Glasses, receipts, my camera, books, make-up, hair accessories and keyes fell in all directions as I scrambled to grab my shit and get the fuck out of there, still coughing the entire time. I had intended to wander the museum looking fabulous and artsy, and left having created an international incident. All I could do to recover was scream "Noses!", grab a Japanese tourist, slam my nose into theirs, and take a photo...