Kiss me, I'm Irish

So I'm at the airport in Dublin, it's 4:44 am, and I have to get to class by 2pm to give a presentation. I already know this is going to be a long day.

            Airports are so interesting. They are a hub of activity. Right before you go through security there are all the families and couples saying goodbye, acting like they will never see the other person again. When you come through customs you see all the families and lovers reunite with kisses, hugs, flower, just love in general. Now these are the things you see during the day. You may even see them at night. What most people don't see, however, is what goes on during the hours surrounding “stupid-o'clock.” That's when the really interesting people come out.

            I got to the airport some time around 11pm. I tried to do the normal things, like watch a movie and listen to music, but there is only so much that you can take of that. I was done by about 1:30am.

            Then came the Latvian boys. The Latvian boys are two guys around my age who live in Dublin, but who go home to Latvia to see their family on the holidays and such. They are quite amusing...I felt like Jane Goodall with the monkeys. They got their hands on a luggage cart and it all went downhill (or uphill depending on how amusing you find it) from there. One would ride on the cart and the other would push it...and of course, being 20 year old boys, they would crash into stationary things. It was hilarious. After that got boring they started delivering me “mail.” They would roll up on their luggage cart to where I was laying down going through pictures and we would just stare at each other knowing something amusing was about to happen, but trying to hold our laughter in. I would be the first to break the silence and say “hi.” Then they would say “hi.” Then they would hand me a piece of paper, an advert for beauty products or something like that, and roll away. I would end up in a fit of laughter. Then they would roll up behind me to see what movie I was watching. The next time they rolled up right behind me and finally we had a full conversation (i.e. 10 lines or so about where each of us were going). I wonder where they went. I kind of want to go find their gate and go play with them. Oh Latvia...

            Then there was the guy at the Soho organic coffee shop. I noticed him because he had this awesome style so I got behind him in line. He walked up to the counter with 2 Stella Artois. Yeah, he knows how to start his morning off right. As it turns out he's over at gate 66 going off to Edinburgh so I can't find out his life story. Too bad.

            Next, there were the two people sitting on either side of me. The girl to the right of me is Italian and plays guitar. She asked me to watch her stuff while she went to the bathroom. Then the guy on my left sat down. He asked me if I was Italian. I was hoping that if I said “no” then he would bugger off (I've hit that point in the early morning where I'm done with people who actually want to have a conversation). He proceeded to question me about my writing habits and asked me if the guitar was mine. I told him it was my Italian friend's. He went on to tell me that he is a composer and plays so many instruments. He is working as a graphic designer secretly in Dublin and going to Italy on “business” for two days so it looks like he isn't working here illegally. Yes, this is exactly the kind of stuff you tell people at the airport at 4 in the morning. So then the girl on my right comes back and he proceeded to talk to her in Italian. She actually just moved over to next to him so they can Italianize together. Glad I could help with that.

            And then there's me. I guess that I can be considered one of these weird morning people. Around 2am I was done with sitting around waiting so I walked around the entire airport and filmed random things so I can put it together in a music video about what it's like living at the airport at God awful times in the morning. I have become one of these airport people...and I love it.

My knight in foreign armor

I know that I have been slacking off and not writing as much and about what I should. And I promise I will get to all the great adventures I have been having around the world, but I just needed to post this first. Tonight I went out with a friend from Northwestern and one of her mates who is studying with her in Spain. I needed to let the world (well, the small amount of people who read this ....and me so I remember it someday) know that chilvalry exists. Tonight when I was cold a guy gave me his jacket. Yes, this may not seem like a big thing, but it is huge. Common courtesy and manners has been lost. We've accepted the fact that nice guys finish last, but that simply isn't true. It's silly, but all those stereotypical things (bringing a girl flowers, opening the door for her, and giving her your jacket when she's cold) makes a HUGE impact. My inner feminist may reel at the thought, but I really love it!
So thank you, for being a gentleman and making me feel like a princess.

Go fly a kite!!!!

SO, I'm currently in Amsterdam trying to book a flight for Thanksgiving break. Over the past week and a half I've been to Brussels, Bruges, and Amsterdam....all while only living out of a backpack. I leave in two days to go back to Rome and although I've fallen in love with all of these cities, I am excited to go back "home."


This is our fall break trip run by the school (Well, Brussels and Brugges was). They wanted to show us the EU, NATO, the European Parliment, and so on. It really was a great trip and I'm going to try to convince my mum to go with me to Bruges as soon as possible.

BRUSSELS
Brussels was like NYC, there were lots of buildings for doing business (unlike Rome where people never work) that we frequented. We lived in a nice residential neighborhood with a little crepe place down the street. We were only 10 minutes by subway from the downtown area. The downtown area, especially the Grand Place, is older and has some of he most beautiful architecture I've seen. There's the one statue, Manikin Pis, of a little boy peeing into a fountain. It's one of their most famous attractions and they make little outfits for it and such.

Most nights we went to this bar called Delirium. It's become my favorie bar. They have about 2,004 kinds of beer from all over the world and the bartenders are great, especially the Australian. There are tons of beers on tap upstairs, but it's downstairs where everybody goes. We met Canadians there the first night and Americans the second.

So this is where I have to explain how I got punched in the face by a Canadian. Well.....we met him the first night at Delirium. He was totally stuck on one of my friends and wanted to meet up the next day. So we had lunch with him and hung out for a bit. We met up with him at Delirium again that night. He basically got rejected by my friend, was a couple of absinthe shot and beers in, and was a frisky Canadian. I understand the aggressiveness in Canadian hockey now from players and fans alike. Somehow we started play fighting (this always happens). Neither of us were landing hard punches; it was all really soft stuff. However, all of a sudden he gets through my gard and lands a hard one right on my nose. It wasn't hard enough to break anything, but my nose did start bleeding a bit. So yeah, did I deserve it? No. Did I start it? Maybe.

GIddy Up...er sbrigati!

SO...this has been a long weekend/week already.

We're gearing up for midterm week (next week). While I write this I am also simultaneously doing my Religions of the World midterm, writing about the little raft and the big raft of Buddhism. Fun.

I broke my school computer. Well, I didn't break it. Really the backlight just burnt out. I think it's because of the electrical current here. Even though I have a converter everything tends to make a buzzing sound when I plug it in. It's kind of freaky when the straightener does it.

I'm a brunette now. I have been for the past week or so. It's wonderful. I missed brown hair. Being a blonde is not what it's cracked up to be.

Being here makes me realize how much I miss home...or, if not home, the people at home. I miss my friends so much, but it's good that I can talk to them all the time on skype. They are so open minded and I like them 100% of the time which is a feat.

My chosen family

Anyway, back to life in Italy. So this past weekend we went to Florence (a.k.a. Firenze) to go horseback riding in Tuscany.

 Overall it was amazing. We has a 6:20 am train so I didn't sleep the night before. We got to Florence and then went to the markets to do some really cheap shopping....well as it turns out not so cheap. I bought this really fierce black fall coat and some scarves for myself.

 

Here's all of us in the farmer's market after eating prosciutto and mozarella sandwiches.

Then we went to the Duomo and saw the Gates of Paridise (or rather the replicas). We got some hotel rooms right by the Duomo and then Steph & I went on an hour+ search for the police so she could get some form of identification.

Around 4 we got into a van that took us to Tuscanny. We rocked out on the way to music from the 80's and 90's. When we go there we were quized on our hourse riding abilities. Since I had only been riding a few times I got the docile horse. He was a chill horse. He didn't try to eat everything on the way like everyone else's horses.

We walked and trotted through the woods and vineyards. I got some great photos that I will put up on my photobucket later thiss week. I have more to say on this all, but I am extremely exhausted. I think I will revise this tomorrow...

Bises.

University Service Day

Wow...it's been a long weekend. I will tell you all about it in the next post. Right now it's 5:30 in the morn and I have class at 9am. I've been up working on this video for University Service Day:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k8pg37W5plo


Bises!
-Chace

What I Like About Rome

So....we get bored at 2 am....and make videos now.

My craziness continues...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5PRRpIbjmd4

<3 Chace

A Buldging Bag of Biscotti

So, silly Chace moment of the day...

After acing my Italian test (no, not really, but I think I passed) and after a well deserved nap, I set out to buy provisions for the week (Read: chocolate croissants, prosciutto, and chocolate chip biscotti). SO I went up to the pastry counter and asked for about 15 biscotti (in Italian). The guy who was working there asked me if I wanted 15 grams worth of biscotti or 15 something else. I don't know how to say "pieces" in Italian so I said it in English and picked the second option assuming it was the right one. So he gets this big bag and starts piling biscotti in. I'm mentally counting in my head and thinking "That is WAY more than 15 (quindiechi)." But you can never have too much biscotti, especially with tea! So he FINALLY fills up the bag and it comes out to about 13 Euro. Apparently the second option that I didn't understand was 15 Euro worth of biscotti. Of course I was too proud to correct him and, like I said, you can never have too much biscotti, so I took it.

Lesson learned: I need to work on my Italian.