Stupid NYU Scare Tactics

Because of the thousands of e-mails and briefings we've gotten on swine flu, my developing sore throat and runny nose is making me stupidly nervous. NYU wants you to think you are going to die if you have the sniffles and that you will get murdered if you walk home alone at night. Thank god life is so much safer in New York! Wait, what?!

Anyway, some stuff to catch up on. Let's see...oh, although I know I previously said otherwise, I've already begun to frequent Lion's Fountain. Okay, no, lies. I've been twice...but damn, drinks are horrifically overpriced. Beer for 6 Euro? That's $9--more outrageous than New York! But I mean, that's the price you have to pay for such a quality establishment--the kind where you don't have to worry about being left alone by creepy Italian men who are socially inept. No, at Lion's Fountain, you get your $9 worth of creepdom. Better call it the Lion's Den.

Beer on the street? Yes, please!

Last Friday, a large group of us went in search of this club called Central Park. After getting lost multiple times (Italians give you fake directions all the time when they don't know where something is--why!?), we found it but our group of originally 8 had dwindled down to 3. I of course did not admit defeat. Why give up when you can reward your hard work with alcohol and crazy dancing? Anyway, the club was ridic huge and full of basically American students and Italian creeps. You know how in New York, or I guess anywhere in the States, sometimes a guy will awkwardly latch on to a group of girls dancing in circular formation and do the sneaky-grind? This is like that, x1000 and the grind is not so sneaky. They will grope the shit out of you, but that's why god gave us boney elbows I guess.

Borgo degli Albizi, my street

The night itself was absurd. I went there with these two girls Humai and Kim, both of whom are absolutely gorgeous. Humai gets super wasted, Kim wants water, I go with Kim for water, we can't find Humai, Kim starts crying, and I realize that I'm super wasted. BUT then I get into the zone where I start telling myself, "OKAY NAMI. SHIT IS GOING DOWN. YOU'RE WASTED. GET YOURSELF TOGETHER." Works like a charm. We find a belligerent Humai, pay to leave, Kim loses her ticket during the 1 minute walk from the register to the exit and starts crying again (what the fuck?), but eventually, we escape. We had met up with a rather large group of Indians at the club, all of whom are in the same NYU program and they were planning on leaving too. I remember drunkenly finding out some guy was Gujarati and getting way too excited about it and probably seeming a freak. Good thing I don't subscribe to drunken shame!

Me and Anwar, the Indian man who runs an Indian jewelery stand in the Mercato Centrale and gives me "Special Indian Price" which means dirt cheap + free shit. I love being Indian.

The Indians all live in the same building, which is close to me but when I ask if I can take the taxi with them they tell me it is full. SO I walk back with Humai and Kim, who live about a 15 minute walk away from me. I get them home and then have to walk home alone at 3 am. Why does this always happen to me? Thankfully, since I had pulled myself together and was hyper-aware of my drunken state, I remained alert and assured myself I'd be fine because 1) I could stab someone with my keys and 2) I knew how to say "FUCK YOU GO AWAY" in Italian. Vaffanculo, vai via! Also I called Mary and got to talk to her, which was nice.

On another note, I've been consistently proving to myself here that Nami + alcohol + technology = disaster. I've said it before--technology is a privilege, not a right. Clearly haven't earned that yet. Fuck.

I got home at 3:30 and didn't sleep till 4, yet woke up the next morning at 9 am to meet Alex and her family to go to the beach. We took the 1.5 hour train to Viareggio, a little town on the Adriatic Sea. You have to rent out umbrellas and chairs, which is stupid but the beach was so wonderful and relaxing. It was great to get out of Florence for a day and just lounge around. Plus I go to wear my overpriced, accidentally purchased J.Lo bikini.

Walking to the beach in Viareggio

J. Lo, without the lovely lady lumps

We had gone far into the ocean on a sandbar when Alex screams as a huge wave came towards us. People start looking around, confused and concerned, and she starts babbling on about some animal in the water. We then had to escort her out but later saw that she was right, and a huge ass jellyfish washed up that had almost hit us smack in the face. Thing was huge.

Enormous

Granite di pompelmo, grapefruit ice made with fresh juice and had bits of pulp in it--yummm

We got back into Florence that night and went out for dinner at a Mexican restaurant--you know, to try and switch things up. Never get Mexican food in Florence. Maybe even in Italy, who knows. In the words of Charles Barkley, it was trbl trbl trbl. Gnarls Barkley even, because that shit was crazy. I miss Mexican food, y'all! It's okay, apparently they sell cheddar in the market and so I'm going to try and see if I can get the ingredients to put together some sort of makeshift Mexican feast. Wish me luck!

Also have found 3 Indian restaurants, which I will check out soon I'm sure. For the time being though, I'm loving Italian food and have been eating so much gelato it is obscene. We went across the Ponte Vecchio last night and got quite possibly the best gelato in the world. I know everyone who comes to Italy raves about "the best gelato place in the world" and that I haven't even been here long to really know, but we got directed towards this place by locals and I swear, I felt like I was enjoying the ambrosia of the gods. I got una coppeta con yogurt&nutella flavored gelato and dark chocolate gelato. Really though, guys. This is probably what cherubin shit tastes like or something--un-freaking-believable.

Artichoke pizza and prosecco at the cafe beneath Alex's apartment

I was going to write about classes, but I don't really feel like it. Eh, it's good so far. Italian is so similar to Spanish that I am terribly bored in my elementary language class and translate everything the professoressa is saying for other students, but recognize that I can't realistically transfer into intermediate because although I can understand Italian relatively well, I still don't know how to speak it. So frustrating! But I'm trying everywhere I can. For example, I spoke with Fernando, the Sri Lankan (holla at Suri--he's from close to Colombo!) barista at NYU's campus cafe, in Italian. Then tonight I spoke to the man who works at the wine bar across the street. And of course, the highlight of my day, attempting to flirt with the beautiful 21-year-old Italian boy who works at the panini joint across the street. Andrea...oh Andrea....we love him. I love him. He has classic Italian good looks--dark hair, tan skin and bright green eyes. Plus he's adorable. Did I mention he is fucking hot? And the panino I got was crazy good and molto economico, so I have a legit reason to stop by almost everyday right? I'm a creeper, I get it.

Where I catch the 25 Bus to campus, the Piazza di San Marco

Il Battistero di San Giovanni in front of il Duomo

Alright sleep soon. My shoulder and back are killing me at the moment, I think because of the 4 hour art class I have on Mondays where I must sit on a wooden slat stool with no backing and draw for 4 hours straight. Plus the art studio has no air conditioning and is infested with mosquitoes. Plus we were working with charcoal so my hands were completely black and I had 30280 itches I couldn't touch. Plus flies kept zooming around my face. Plus my Professor is super critical. So much for my slack class!

Long post, lots of pictures but that's okay right? I'm gonna set my computer aside so it can take an epic hour to upload 5 pictures. Yay.

Buona notte,
Nami