The Devil Does Not Wear Prada and All Other Divine Comedies.

No. No. No. The Devil does not wear Prada but rather the Devil wears neon orange onesies with two white strip reflectors on his legs and sits in a bull dozer and has decided to demolish my street with his sledge hammer, pitch fork and all other loud machines that shake my building.  For a little bit, I thought the devil lived in my water heater but I figured out how to restart it if it god-for bid goes out again, so I know he doesn't live there anymore but he definately lives outside my window. In Florence they are always doing construction just like they are at U of M, but for some reason they believe that my beautiful street needs some work and they have decided to rip up the side walk on my street. I don't hate that they are doing this construction but what I do hate is that they only do the construction from 12 am to 3am in the morning and then again from 6 am to 8 am in the morning. Why? I don't know but what I do know, is if they don't stop I am a. never going to sleep again because apparently they won't be done until the end of February and b. I am going to kill them. I even tried sleeping with ear plugs in but the sounds eeeeeeeeeeeeeeee....zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.........AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH cannot be stopped by little orange pieces of foam.  Besides the fact that I woke up to a dream about Dante's Inferno ( because I have seen a million images of what hell looks like in the past couple of days) only to find out it was just Jack the Ripper and Mr. Hammerhead ripping apart my street aka the devil.  Besides that.... TODAY WAS THE BEST DAY THUS FAR. Life is good. I woke up for book making class, learned how to make photo transfers 4 different ways and then our class headed to see an exhibit on the illuminated scrolls. Talk about years of hard work. One monks' sole job for his entire life was to paint parts of the scroll red. I get attention deficit disorder just going to look at them, these dudes spent their lives doing the same thing. It was incredible to see the process.  My teacher is so knowledgeable and interesting to listen to (just the way she presents herself is fascinating and I might have to kidnap her and bring with me on all of my tours because the past few guides I have had have equaled = zzzz)  We got out of class early only to go eat at the worlds best sandwich shop...duh...Anna's.  The usual. Repeat after me. tomato, mozzarella and what...yes...you know it...Tuna on flat bread! The Gorilla and I introduced a few of our classmates to our second home.  Following lunch we strolled back home to kill some time before our next adventure of the day...TEA TASTING. We sat up on our delectable roof top, sun glistening in all and I wrote some e-mails, and the Gorilla painted. Zach and Cody...you think you live the sweet life...ya no...I do.  So about this whole afternoon adventure of TEA TASTING. Basically my program rockers my boxers off and has a million and a half free opportunities of fun.  This week is TEA TASTING. Did you hear that TEA TASTING (I for some reason feel the need to capitalize it because it is just so cool) There were supposed to be 6 other people for the tasting but only the Gorilla and I and our two (quasi-good) other roommates (the best of the 4) showed up and then our group leader dude (who happens to be very attractive but has an unfortunately small forehead, hopefully he will be blessed with a mans worst nightmare, a receding hairline because he could use a tiny bit more space up there) Anyhoo. The TEA TASTING was at this resturant called Mago Merlino something something (Magical Tea). We arrived there at 2:45 (granted I have class at 4:00) and are welcomed by a 65 year old hippie who owns the place and makes all of the teas.  The restaurant (which was actually a tea bar) had a main entry area and it was filled with stained glass Moroccan lanterns, indian rugs, incense in all four corners and an interesting display of color strings that were interwoven across the ceiling.  On one of the walls there was a map of the entire world with different arabian characters and illustrations on it. In the back part of the bar there was a lounge with large fluffy pillows surrounding the circumference of the room. No chairs. Just pillows. Apparently Mr. Mago Merlino is only open during the night from 10pm-3am and you can drink tea and smoke hookah, but upon special request you can come during the day (hence we went at 2:40pm) Mr. Mago (the hippie man..who now that I think about it would be great lover for my photo teacher if she was not an outright feminist lesbian) brewed us three different kinds of tea: chi, green, and then one that tasted like black licorice.  I have never in my entire life had such delicious tea. I think he put some type of drug in it because for the first time the Gorilla and I were actually enjoying our time with our roommates.  We told classic stories of ralphing, learned about Mrs. Rumplash's terrible decision to feed the class pet, a hamster, named Thunder, a piece of cheese because it died and the Gorilla shared a classic tale about her father killing his own cat out of love. We sipped tea and ate orange cakes, chocolate crispy yummy-ness-ness and ginger snaps. Mr. Mago was working up a storm to brew us these teas. He travels four times a year to different places like India and Africa to learn about different teas.  He was extremely interested in our perspective about the election and we got in a pretty deep convo with him about it.  He has the voice of a man who has been smoking for 50 years, a heart of a grandfather who loves his grandchildren and dresses in Indian gowns and wears slippers.  As I said earlier, we got there at 2:40 and we giggled and sipped our way through 3 hours of tea fun.  We missed 90% of our photo class but good thing, our photo class only has 6 people in it and three of us were at the tea tasting. We showed up to class 2 hours late and our teacher was so happy we went to the tea tasting, counted us present and thats the story.  I skipped my first day of class consciously, and I was rewarded with the mark of presence. My life is good. After my one hour of photog, I stopped by the il centro (grocery store) to pick up a box of spinach for dinner. (They sell pre-cooked spinach in a plastic box and it is wonderful...I was craving it!) Tonight the Gorilla and I and the bad "camera gamer" went to a bar called Rex to listen to our sweet innocent receptionist at the art school sing Janice Joplin.  Okay for one thing, never make judgements about your sweet little receptionist where ever you are because she probably has another ego, lives another life and is just sweet and innocent at the desk but the minute she leave she someone else. This is exactly how mine is.  We walked into the bar and screaming at the top of her lungs behind jail cell bars made out of rope, is our sweet little innocent receptionist belting her little heart out.  It was incredible.  Still in shock but in a good shock, I walk around the corner to find my Italian teacher with her hands in the air singing and dancing to the music with her fiance. This country is like fairy tale land and I love it.  Half the art school was there rockin out and I couldn't have been happier.  I love the students in my school much more than the kids on my program.  A old hip man, that might have been Richard Branson's brother, started talking to me aka hitting one me.  Apparently he and his wife just signed with Barney's and Nordstroms to sell a line of purses but he is also a producer and does something with music.  I overheard him talking to girls before me and all I could think of is a. what are you doing here in this bar b. where is your wife and c. you could be my dad.  Thank god the bar was slowly closing and we peaced out of there because I smelled a huge fat lier and I don't like talking to my dad at bars unless you are my real dad nor do I like lying old men trying to be cool when really they are hitting on girls half their age. We stayed there until 2 and then realized we were on the same street as Mr. Mago's tea place so we knocked on the door and went in for some tea.  Well I realized something really important, only go to the things that are free because they are free for a reason. IT WAS 8.50 PER PERSON for a pot of tea.  I love you Mr. Mago but 8.50, come on. But I did have sweat dreams. 

New Popes and other hopes.

all the girlies stand in the line for the bathroom. 

New Cape. New Face.

New Kicks. New Tricks.

oh wait and remember when...

Remember when you watched Rear Window 4 nights in a row and still haven't finished it.

Remember when you bought a pope candle from the euro store. 

Remember When..

Remember when I woke up and the heat was out again.

Remember when I walked by Aliza's computer and had a seizure because there was so much pink on it.

Remember when Emily sat outside our door talking to her boyfriend until three in the morning.

Remember you face planted.

Remember when you had a hair ball in your throat but it was really peanut butter.

Remember when the prime minister saw your tits.

Remember when you waved to him the next day on the roof.

Remember when you left your ring on the table and thought the waiter wanted to give you your change back.

Remember when you saw pigs sitting at a table.

Remember when you saw pigs sitting with a head dress.

Remember when you were walking through the meat market and saw you could have free samples of Volasorapter.

Remember how every time you walk through the straw market the same man tells you he likes your shoes and all you can do is look at him dumbfounded and say "really...is that what you like..did you even see my shoes today?"

Remember when your secretary at your school had another life and freakily danced and sang to Janice Joplin.

Remember when your dad approached you at the bar and proceeded to tell you he was basically Richard Branson.

Remember when you sang the lion king song out the window holding the orange you (the Gorilla) stole from the prime minister's house. 

Remember when the "barbie of america" came and you still don't know who they were talking about. 

Remember when you so were hungry and wanted to eat gelato but instead you opted for special-k.

Remember how you got the special-k...oh yeah..the il centro guy knows you because you come in every day that he convinced his manager to let you in after hours.

Remember when you got the special-k and decided that special-k with chocolate was better than regular special-k and then proceeded to eat the whole box.

Remember when you told the American girl you didn't speak english.

Remember when every time you walk down the street you pretend to don't speak english.

Remember when the kick back made you do a face plant.

Remember when you went tea tasting and the hippie tea man pulled your toe to wake you up.

Remember when Mrs. Rumplash fed Thunder, the hamster, a piece of cheese and he died.

Remember when your dad loved his cat so much that he killed it.

Remember when Nick had an unfortunately short forehead...excuse me have you seen me forehead?

Remember when you met Alex the Australian on the street and named him Ralph because he Ralphed all over the street.

Remember when you walked to the ghetto in Florence for food and you didn't even know there was a ghetto of florence...but there was.

Remember when you walked across town to eat 5 euro gelato.

Remember when your photo teacher yelled at the man walking on the street "excuse me"

Remember when your roommate told you that she was concerned that if she lost her weight she would loose her boob weight.

Remember when your roommates went out of town and you were so happy.

Remember when you pooped your pants. 

Remember when you drank white stuff and you wondered if it came from a human.

Remember when you got masks from the euro store and danced with the tambourine and took pictures.

Remember when Jack the Ripper, and his side kick Mr. Hammerhead sat out your window at 6 in the morning to rip apart your street.

Remember how everyday you go to Anna's to eat in order to avoid cooking. 

Remember how you ate so many gummies that you thought you were going to throw up.

Remember when you opened the bottle of wine and it rocket powered into the sky.

Just remembering is the best thing in the entire world. 

-enaj and fata 

Vorri Un Cono da 2 euro.

Every week for an hour I have what is called Italian lab. It is a required class where we are supposed to practice our Italian and learn about Italian culture.  There are only 4 kids in the class and my professor is the cutest little Italian fashionista.  In class today we learned how to order gelato and the names of the different flavors.  This class session was highly imperative to my success in learning the Italian language and was truly educational. How will I become Italian if I don't even know the most important words like how to order gelato? In order to get the full experience of ordering gelato, we obviously had to go out in the real world and practice, hence we went to a secret gelatoria that only Italians go to.  For those less experienced, there are two types of gelatorias, one for the tourists and one for the Italians.  You will have to come to visit me in Florence and I can show you the secret "real" gelatorias. As a test we all had to order gelato in Italian or else we could not get any. I obviously aced it...and I will have no problem taking on this test in weeks to come.  Apparently every week we go on a different field trip or watch Italian films.  I love this city. On a more serious note, my future husband, the beloved Heath Ledger passed away today and much grief was felt in the Via Dei Ginori this evening.  Like the shot heard around the world, a bomb hit our apartment and the Gorilla and I were truly devastated.  In order to give Heath a true moment of silence, it was necessary to escape our apartment because we knew that Heath would not appreciate a mourning service with the worlds most annoying people.  The Gorilla and I escaped to mourn for our loved one. We went to the Arno with a bottle of wine, a jar of peanut butter (it cost 5 euros for a small jar...that is 8 dollars American, but for Heath Ledger's memorial service we were willing to do anything) We sat there and ate the entire jar of peanut butter and reflected upon his finest moments. After, we decided we should go to our favorite hang out spot since we were so close. The Gorilla finally got new converse high-top tennis shoes, white euro style and they ended up being a little too cumbersome for her Gorilla feet. Aka I did a little black boot kick back, like a bikes kick stand, I kicked back and the Gorilla flew back aka a straight up face plant, it wasn't anything short of a face plant.  I am proud to say that I am the first person to make a mark on her brand new kicks, needless to say that the next day the Gorilla made a mark of her own and dropped a huge tomato on them...BUT I WAS THE FIRST! We then went to our favorite spot only to find that tonights entertainment was a poetry slam.  Granted it would have been wonderful if a. we understood Italian or b. if it were in English. Again the cultural barrier wall went up and we were out of luck.  A little wino-ed out we went home and went to bed. RIP Heath Ledger.