I woke up in my own bed this morning and MAN it felt good. This weekend I am staying here to host the worlds finest business men and one woman. Hailing from across the world (Hail to the those victors), my dear friends Caz, Kulick, and economical "put your food in your pants" Michael, the Rose of all Rosenbloom's are coming to Florence for their spring break. I woke up rather early to get some work done before they came because I have midterms next week and even though I am "do-little and get it done" Allison this semester, I had the "get it done" portion to do this weekend. As I walking over to Erica's, I just happen to see DP, Susan T, and Port walking down my street (not the typical jew crew camp chi connection but rather a jew crew chi-o connection) Then I turned the corner and standing outside a small little wine shop was Rose and Kulick. The Michigan crew finally arrived and we headed to the infamous "Oil Shoppe" that everyone and their mothers have been raving about to me for weeks. I know there are other sandwich places in this city but there ain't nothing like Anna's and I have just been a little nervous to venture our for fear I might spend my money on something that is just not as scrumptious. Well the rumor was true, it was quite a tasty little booger. I split a "chunky chicken" and meat ball sandwich with Sara. This lunch started off the "eat so much you can't breath trend". I seriously think I stretched my stomach to new proportions this weekend and that this not so good when I am expected to be wearing a bathing suit next weekend for my spring break extravaganza in Malaga Spain. The weather here has really perked up and today was just the sunniest and friendliest day. After lunch it was imperative to get gelato. Vorre un gelato cono con menta e cafe, 2 euro. We headed to the Ponte Vecchio to show our visitors the world most splendid view. The fun kinda ended with a huge pigeon decided to sit on top of the ledge over Sara's head and take not just a poop, but a dump on her. At the time we all tried to convince Sara that it wasn't that bad but now that I think about it, it was actually disgusting. We didn't have an archeological dig in our agenda for the day but on a our way home, we took a little side tour to do some excavations on the cobble stones of Florence. Out of the pure excitement of having my friends in town I decided to play with my rings, moving them back and forth from hand to hand when all of the sudden one of my rings hit a gust of wind and flew through the air into a deep crevice of a cobble stone. This is when the archeological excavation began. Because he was now in Europe, Kulick thought that he could be a god and or Hercules and lift a stone from the ground in order to get my ring out. With all of his might he successfully failed but luckily I had the worlds most prepared human being standing right next to me and Erica decided to be a little more realistic and hand me a pin. I wasn't going to let my ring my mother gave me stay in Florence forever, so naturally, I sat on the ground and began the great dig. People started to gather around the site, wondering what the heck I was doing. 5 minutes later, I held the jewel in my hand and the rest was history. Everyone went back to Erica's and Sara's for a little siesta and I headed to the art school to "get it done". Around 6:45 everyone came over to enjoy some bubbly on my terrace over looking the Duomo. Multiple times this weekend I found myself just thinking WOW, I am the worlds luckiest person. The weather was perfect, stars were hanging in the sky, champagne was in our glasses and we were all together, what more could you want. 5 bottles later, we headed to another top notch restaurant for dinner. Aqua el Due, located on the street of Via del Aqua, is owned by the same family as the "American Brunch" restaurant. Erica and I split the worlds most delicious balsamic steak that actually just caused me to drool while I am typing this. Two dessert plates later, and completely stuffed to the brim we headed back home for a little preparation before the game. In the collegiate world, we call this pre-game. We headed to a club called Central Park that is actually located on the out of the outskirts of the park, but it would be weird to call it "outskirts park", thus it is called Central Park . The club was divided into three different rooms. One room for the loungers, another from the Americans and another one for the Italians. The divide is quite noticeable and the Italian style of dancing is more like body thrust that could give some one a migraine while the American style of dancing is more like making babies on the dance floor that could actually give someone a baby. The only thing about this divide is that it is really not that divided because the Italian men seem to be more interested in making babies than having migraines, so there seemed to be many more Italians on the American side rather than Americans on the Italian side. Caz and I felt like putting on our Italian man mentality (but without the same intentions) and venture to the Italian dance floor. I hate to make this divide seem so strong but I can only speak the truth. I only the speak the truth. Caz and I jumped into the middle into the middle of the dance floor and all of the sudden I realized my arms were imitating the man next to who was probably on an acid trip, even though I have no idea what one of those feels like his eyes were slightly closed and he was workin it. Now that I think about it, maybe he wasn't on an acid trip because else was dancing that way, but Caz and I thought it was only appropriate to freakishly move around hands around our body like a snake. I met a stinky Italian who had crooked teeth and Caz met a blonde stallion. However we got a little tired after a while and came back to the American dance floor do a little solja boy dancin. I think Caz and I lost our feet at Central Park because we were dancing fools. Sara got freaky with buff-back-bender-Brian and we just made fun of her. Kulick was like Superman and saved us from all of the creepers. It is an interesting phenomena this whole Italian aggressiveness. I am minding my own business, dancing with my friends, and I just don't think it is so nice to come up behind and grab my stomach or touch my butt, it is creepy. Every time one of us would get heckled by the hecklers we would yell for Kulick, aka he was all of our boyfriends. Rose must have been so excited to be in Italy, that he forgot to remember the evening. Around 3:45 we decided it was appropriate to head home. Indeed it was. The rest of the girls that I was with probably still think I am crazy but regardless of where we are I REFUSE TO TAKE A CAB. God gave me legs, God made florence a small city and it just doesn't make sense to me. I hurdled up the boys and told them that they could get 2 sandwiches at a cafe for the price of one cab ride, when this city is beautiful, why not take a walk. I will be the first to admit that it was a rather far walk, but I enjoyed every second of it, walking down the street arm in arm with Rose and he word vomited the most random things. He just really wanted pizza. I discovered one trick to this whole explanation as to why Italians are much thinner than Americans and it is because they don't have "late night" pizza places on every corner and it is actually impossible to buy any kind of snack food past 11. I like that idea, but Michael sure did not. 4:30 bed time but what a great day, what a great night, with great friends, great food, and great times. It is just great to be great. You can call me the Al-lison the Great!
postness from the friday of february in the day of 22 in the year of 2008
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