|Roman Holiday| A few things from my adventure in Rome last weekend: 1. Sometimes not getting what is ordered can be enough to make a girl breakdown into tears (not this one). Especially when it really is what she ordered, she just didn't realize it when she placed the order. It's generally best not to trust the English "translations" you read on the menu. 2. Rome is dirty. And Italians love their grafitti. Almost as much as they love their gelatti (gelatto?). 3. You CAN pick up a cute and random boy from off the street (literally) who is drunk and trashed with a creepily sharp and long right-thumb without fear that he's going to kill you. And eventually he will sober up enough for you to figure out what hostel he's staying at and walk him there. But, beware, you will have to hear the story about how he qualified for two of his pub crawl's chugging contests about eight times -- but he tells each rendition as if it's the first time you're hearing it because he doesn't realize that it's not. During times 3-8 you might think to yourself, "Should a 6'1" 130lbs boy really be entering chugging contests?" 4. Rome is not known for it's gaie dance clubs. But keeping to its ancient Roman traditions, you're very likely to find 3-4 bath houses (really sex clubs, though one did have a number of pools) within walking distance of your hostel. When you go to one and manage to make out with 3 of the 4 boys (men, really) who turn your crank, quit while you're ahead. Don't go to another one because you want to make your last night in Rome some kind of special, because you just might end up wasting 3 hours doing nothing. At the same time, something about being in a heated pool while an artificial waterfall cascades over you really makes you not care about guys not wanting to touch your godstick. If only all clubs were bath houses. 5. Rome may not have been built in a day, but you can certainly cross it in a day. And in that day you may encounter: a semi-high speed car chase of South Asian looking men who do their best to avoid dropping their goods (they fail and you see that what they are carrying [absconding with?] are water guns) while holding their sweaters crisscrossed around their shoulders, fountains from "La Dolce Vita," candy shops selling lolipops with the Pope's likeness laser-printed on, and a different homeless woman with the same two dogs that you saw with another homeless woman earlier in the day. You will not find, however, an "I [heart] the Vatican" t-shirt, despite all of your best efforts. 6. Fascism is still alive and kicking in Rome, or so you would believe when witnessing scores of men (and only men) in bomber jackets with shaved heads marching in a parade commemorating fascism in Italy outside the Colisseum. I was looking especially gaie and black when I chanced upon this demonstration. I did not receive the most welcoming looks from all the white bald Italian men. 7. When you leave Rome and return to Paris, you'll be glad to be in a country where you know how to ask, without flapping your arms and pointing, "Do you know where I should put my bag?" even if you use the wrong tense and level of formality.
I went to an Ivy League undergrad.
I go to a top NYC law school.
I date men (well...).
I live in Bed-Stuy.
I don't need more to say,
just more room to say it.
Etc.