Kay anyway, moving away from that bout of egoism to talking some more about myself, this is what has been going on. (I realize I said I'd dedicate this post to food, but fuck that, I'll talk about food later). I write to you now in bed, fresh out of the shower, with toothpaste on my face in the hopes that it will demolish the zit that is rudely forming on my chin. Basically, I look awesome.
I have been having a blast here in Firenze. I'm all about making friends with the locals and, my favorite part, flirting it up and getting free shit. I now understand what it means to be "having fun" as a single girl abroad! It does not mean contracting a plethora of venereal diseases, as I had once thought. Whoops.
Last night was our Big Night Out, so all of my friends and I went out in a large group to a bar called Rex Cafe. It is super cute, with a Gaudi-like interior and a crowd comprised of mostly, if not all, locals. There, I met Juan, my new Gay BFF from Costa Rica. He is traveling around Europe alone because his friends and boyfriend didn't want to cough up the dough, and he is Florence until tomorrow (slash today) noon. Juan began as my own selfish outlet for Spanish practice, but ended up a fabulous addition to our group. At Rex Cafe, we also met this creepy 35-year-old Tommy-Lee-look-a-like. OMG so many hyphens in that sentence right there. Anywho, he was gross. Also, my friend Humai was grabbed, kissed, and then ass-groped by this horrifying sneak-creep sitting in a corner near the bathroom. We decided it was then time to leave, and I made sure to stop in front of the sneak-creep, stare at him angrily for a good 10 seconds and then flick him off.
Then we (me, Alex, Sophie, Shelly, Jenny, Joci, Kim, Humai, Ryanne, and now Juan) decided to head to Amodeus, our new favorite bar a little further south. It was a great time, as always, because the creepy owner gives us free shots and the Senegalese bouncers are in love with Ryanne and call her Mother Africa (wtf? compliment? yes? we think? still weird..?). A new Senegalese man seemed to want to make me his bride also. COOL. Additionally ran into the Albanian guy I met there the last time who bought me drinks, but I was too obsessed with this Italian boy I had just met to pay him any attention. OMG guys, this Italian boy. I love him. His name is Karem and I woke up this morning to find his number in my purse on a napkin. Only then did I recall our conversation...
(Us for 10 minutes: flirtflirttalktalkflirtflirtyay)
Him: I have a girlfriend.
Me: That sucks.
Him: blahblahblah flirtflirtflirt
Me: flirtflirtflirt...we should hang out..
Him: I have a girlfriend.
Me: Right. That sucks. But..we can still be friends right?
Him: Yup. Yup! Here's my number!
Me: Right...but you have a girlfriend. But it's okay, you can still show me around the city?
Him: Yeah! Oh by the way, here's my friend--he wants to meet you and your friends.
Enter short, fat friend.
Anyway, Karem is beautiful and tall and has a lip piercing (yes please!) and also, if you guys didn't hear, has a girlfriend. Fuck my life. Oh well, I don't think I'm going to call him...though I do love him. I'm always afraid that when guys give me their number, they are wasted and if I call them and they see me in person again they will be like "WTF who are you and why did I give you my number?!" Ergo, I don't call back. Ever. Ever. Evereverever. But oh Karem, you should break up with your girlfriend. And ditch the obnoxious small fat friend.
So yeah, that was last night. It is almost 2 am here and though there is so much more I'd love to blog about (homemade risotto, chocolate mousse gelato, my British boyfriend-for-a-day, the gay bar, Siena, etc. etc.) alas that will all have to wait. I have to wake up at 6:30 t0 catch a train to Cinque Terre. I'll be there till Sunday, so I'll blog when I return.
A presto!
Nami
P.S.
Mi dispiace amici, ma non ho photos for this entry! Next post will be photo-obese, promise!
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