Sunday is a good day to do nothing. Like flying for instance.

We actually woke up on time this morning, making record Isenberg time and headed over to the Ezri's for another feast in the east. (the east being eastern europe) Chris was going to be in a Purim play next week and he really wanted us to see the dress rehearsal so we headed over to the JCC for an early morning performance. It was a very interesting site to see. Standing on the stage was the choir composed of all generations. The young, the old, the not so young and the not so old. From what I could gather, hence I don't speak hebrew, romanian or hungarian, it was more like a medley of dances and songs rather than a play. Chris was the only boy raising his arms to the sky and bouncing is feet around. I was just so exhausted from the weekend of eating that it was a little difficult to pay attention the entire time. Mama I. and I made an observation this weekend: the hot fashion style for spring is having purple or red hair. The women at the JCC solidified our observations. One women went so far that I would considered saying carrot orange hair might make the runway this spring and if your not into bright orange, the older ladies were supporting gently frosted purple highlights. Grey is out purple is in. But more incredible than the hair, was the communities strength. It isn't like it is back in the states, where everyone and their mother that goes to umich is jewish, and it isn't back at home where the JCC is pimped out with huge work out rooms and full length swimming pools, the community is a very small, modest group and they are really there for each other. All of the kids know the adults and all of the adults whether they are 96 or 52 know all of the younger kids. Everyone in their jewish community helps each other out and it is truly fascinating. After our Purim delight, we headed to the bus where in just a matter of seconds, not even minutes, the entire Isenberg clan, united as a team, and did what we do best, crashed like the stock market and fell right asleep. I didn't wake up until we reached the border of Hungary and that was only for 2 minutes in order to give Mama I. my passport and besides that I slept the entire 2 and a half hours to Budapest. We made it safely on the plane and I began reading one of Amy I's trashy love novels. She just loves them. She only brought 7 books with her, worried that she might not have enough to do. For those of you who have not met Amy Isenberg, let me tell you she is an incredible human being and I love her. Two hours later, the Isenberg family set foot in the land of great wonders. Thank goodness Amy I. was able to get over her fears of bad smells, and the true nose of all nose's, officially said "Florence does not smell bad". Anyone worried about the different smells of Europe, for fear you might not like them, just ask Amy Isenberg because she is the nose of our family. My parents are staying at this fabulous hotel called Hotel Bernini, right behind the butt of the fake David in Piazza Signoria. Each room is decorated in the style of a renaissance but modern day palace. Everyone unpacked their bags and then we did a mini tour before dinner. Rule number 1: Don't ask for recommendations from the front desk of hotel, be sporadic and look for yourself or else you will land in the hole of tourists. I wasn't sure what would and wouldn't be open for dinner on a Sunday night at 8:30, so I asked the woman at the front desk for some advice, she recommended a place called "Natailano" and promised me, very few people there would speak english. Maybe she miss understood me, but EVERYONE THERE SPOKE ENGLISH. The entire fiesta behind us had the worlds deepest and dirtiest southern accent. I don't care that Americans have invaded this city, there isn't anything I can do about it. BUT there are 10,000 restaurants here, and I know for sure there are places with and without tourists and I wanted to give my family the true Italian experience. For the record, The Isenberg family will not be returning to Nataliano. Lets just say we got tricked by the bread. Obviously the most important task of the evening was to take them to my favorite gelatoria, Perche No. Mama I. (as in Isenberg) made the worlds most important discovery in all of Italy. I didn't think it was possible nor did I know something so incredible and revolutionary could happen like this. It has now completely changed my experience here, I AM GOING TO SCREAM THIS FROM THE MOUNTAIN TOPS, ITALY HAS GELATO THAT TASTES LIKE PINKBERRY. Just think gelato, thick and creamy, wondrous and delicious mixed with a little bit of the worlds most addicting frozen yogurt, its thin as silk and mouthwatering as a watering can (not sure what that means but the sensation of Pinkberry is incredible. Ask my second family back in L.A, and they will tell you that I would do anything for a pinkberry) So what more could you want than an Italian pinkberry YES! After fireworks and shooting stars buzzed through the air for Mama I's new found discovery, I bravely brought the fam to meet the roommates. AHH TERRIFYING. But the chickens were on their best behavior and I was throughly impressed until Pants just had to pull out some story about her touching a statues nipple. Not that my family cared but awkward. I finally reunited with my little fury animal, the Gorilla and we were able to catch up for about negative 5 seconds in bed before I started falling asleep. I will come clean about a hidden secret, live for everyone to read, I have an eye witnesses and I can't hold back anymore, let the truth be heard, I do snore. Terrifying and embarrassing, the Gorilla has caught me in a duel action packed snore, and I wanted to let you all know before any other rumors begin. Off to bed, exhausted from eating so much food this weekend. I love having the family here and I can't wait to show them my motherland. Ciao ciao! Oh and Happy Birthday Minki Pinki and Miss Andrea Pack!

the SIX-tain of march ness

In Spanish it means to put, In Hungarian it means Kiss, and In English you get your mouth washed out with soap if you don't end it with a willow.

We had planned to wake up at 8 am and be over at the Ezri's at 9 am in order to be able to fit in all of the site seeing we needed to do, however we were not informed that the Romanian's moved their clocks up an hour (they didn't physically move the clocks on us, they are just in a different time zone than Florence and Hungary). So when we ended up waking up at 8:45 and finally making it over the Ezri's house at 9:30, we really ended up waking up at 9:45 and making it over the Ezri's house at 10:30 and then we ended up eating breakfast/lunch=brunch at 11:00. I thought last night was just a special welcome feast, but no no no, the large dining room table somehow managed to double in the amount of food and poor Gabriella Ezri must of woken up at the crack of dawn to prepare the mounds of food. Papa Gusti made us all real chicken egg eggs. From what we could understand, they get their eggs from a real farmer who has his own chickens, none of that carton business, this was serious chicken shiz. I could taste the difference in the flavor and the coloring was much different. After salami and cheese and bread and strudel and orange juice and eggs and a chocolate kinder bar, I decided that I had to finally put my foot down to Gusti's persistent force feed. He would not take no for an answer and then when I had Chris tell him that I was going to explode if I ate more, and then he finally let me off the hook. After lunch-bruch-feast-o-fun, we all piled in their family cars and headed to bear mountain. The kids were in Chris's car, Mama I. drove with Norbert and the GF and Papa I. took shot gun in the car with Edith, Gusti and Gabriella. We Isenberg children did what we Isenberg children do best and instantly but gently laid our heads on our hands and rested out eyes. I woke up numerous times for fear that we were going to die. In Romania, they don't have highways or two lane roads, so in order to go anywhere you have to play the risk taking game of speed-racer, cutters style and Chris indeed thought he was Mario Andretti. All of the sudden Chris would jet out into the lane going in the opposite direction, and cut the person in front of him. The scary part was not the actual going into the other lane, the scary part of was going into the other lane and then seeing a car heading directly at you and then quickly cutting in between two cars in order to avoid getting hit from the front. Gusti was the master at this game. We drove through the most scenic and beautiful towns. We would be driving for 20 minutes with not a single house or stop in sight, large mountains in the background and untouched crayon green fields in the foreground and then all of the sudden a little peasant village would pop up or two men herding sheep or little bubshucka women with their scarves and skirts sweeping the gravel. Tractors and men in horse drawn wagons pulling hay would occasionally appear on the right or left. It was incredible. An hour and a half later we made it to the bear caves. If Romania got its act together it could be one of the most beautiful and interesting tourist attractions. I have only been the city of Ordea, but wowza I have just been so impressed. While the remains of Communism still lingers here and there, and a little bit everywhere, and people seem to be a just a wee bit debby downers, the history and architecture, and the villages are just incredible and even the underdeveloped and less looked upon are fascinating. However the one tourist attraction they do have are these bear caves. Peasant women and children stand at the base of cave, demanding for you to buy their gidgets and gadgets like crystal bears, and apple pastries. Story has is that thousands of years ago, and by thousand I mean thousands and thousands of years ago, bears used to inhabit these caves until one day a massive hurricane or earthquake or some type of storm came along and the land caved in and closed off the entrance into the cave and all of the bears were suck inside with no exist. If I am not mistaken and if I heard correctly, it was only within the past hundred years that a man discovered this cave and when he entered, he found hundreds and hundreds of bears bones. We were only shown one complete set of bones but I think Mister-Tour-Guide-Who-Did-Not-Speak-English (but Chris translated) told us that they now have found 6 complete bodies. Stalactites covered the cave wall and stalagmites grew from the ground. The gave was ginormous and only a portion of it is open to the public. Look above for fun and games.
Now for the best part of the entire day and the entire weekend and will probably be a story I will remember for my entire life. The Ezri family would not allow us to put a dime down this weekend, we weren't even allowed to buy waters at the gas station. Gusti bought our entire family tickets into the cave. Mama I. and I were so grateful that he bought us our tickets that when he went to hand them to us, we tried to be culturally correct and say thank you in Hungarian "cursenum" or as Chris taught us to pronounce it "curse-en-em". He then pointed to his cheek as imply that he wanted a kiss on the cheek. This is not absurd thing to do in Europe and the whole two kiss thing is rather common. However as he was pointing to his cheek, he said pussy pussy. Mama I. and I looked at each other I proceed to give him the right and left kissy kissy while saying pussy pussy because I was not sure what else to do. Mama I. (more naive) however was not as willing and said "I don't think we can say that" (in just the sweetest voice ever with bright red cheeks). We ended this little episode rather awkwardly and Mama I. gave him the kiss, kiss and we then headed into the exhibit. Mama I. and I kinda forgot about it because we were so engaged with the bear cave but after the exhibit Gusti must of talked to Chris and sensed something was awkward with our interaction. Little did we know and little did he know, but in Hungarian pussy means kiss and in English pussy does not mean kiss. The entire way day, we were just laughing our heads off and you could just tell Gusti was so embarrassed and couldn't believe that he had asked Mama I. and I for pussy. Chris informed us that there are other words in Hungarian and Romanian that should not be used around those who speak English. For instance the word, F*uck, in Hungarian means Tree (sorry to be so vulgar) So if someone in Hungarian happened to say that they wanted to kiss a tree, to those who speak english, it was would sound VERY dirty. We just giggled and giggled the whole way home. After our kissing incident and bear cave hunt we headed back down the mountain to a peasant museum, where three old men have opened up their homes for people to come and look at their family history through their clothing, wagons, pottery, and even bedrooms. Papa I. asked the Chris to ask the man if he wanted any money because we couldn't believe such a place would be free and the man said he had no need for money but if my dad had a wife he would take her. Mama I. offered to give Amy I and I away. By the time we got into back into the car it was already almost 5. On the way there, we saw several different sheep herders and their sheep's and Chris promised that we could stop and try to herd them and or for me take pictures of them. Down the road, we caught our first group. We pulled to the side of the road and I spastically grabbed my camera and ran out of the car. Bah Bah Black (white) sheep have you any wool yes sir yes sir three bags full and dog that will bite you in the butt hole. Again sorry for being so vulgar but Sheep Dog the Sheep Herding dog was not a friendly little pup, trained to be tough and eat people alive. He almost bit Edith's butt off and then decided my whole body was a greater source of people protein and he darted straight towards me. I thought my life was over and my face was gone but lucky Sheep Herder the Sheep Herding Man thrashed his wooden weapon in the air and the dog backed off a little. I decided that was enough for this one sheep herding photo shoot and I didn't just walk back to the car, I boulted. I probably left human tire tracks on the ground. We continued on our way for another 2 minutes until we saw another herd of sheep, but this time there were two Sheep Herders, two Sheep Herding men. It was a photo op, you wouldn't be able to do or experience this in any other place in the world. I could of stopped 60 more times on the way home, but I didn't want the caravan of cars to kill me, so I kept my mouth closed every time we saw a group of sheep with there sheep herders. We didn't get back into Ordea until 7:30. However, Chris had to go to dance practice. While I have yet to see Chris shake his bom-bom Israeli style, I sure hope he is on either ends of the spectrum. Either he is something really similar to "Extra Pizzaz" bald man we saw dancing at the JCC in Budapest or straight as the bed I sleep on. Edith also had to go, which meant we were down two translators for dinner. We ate at this very interesting restaurant that was supposedly very typical Romanian food. We sat at the tip top of the tiki hut restaurant where the statement, heat rises, was formed. Cuddled against our backs were real sheep and cow hide lined chairs attached to big heavy wooden seats. Mama I. and I learned that Norbert's girlfriend doesn't speak Hungarian, and that the Ezri's mostly talks in Hungarian but that she understand a little English. I can't imagine how difficult it must be to with the family all of the time when they don't speak your language. I assume they must switch on their Romanian mindset when she is around but I am just not sure because I couldn't tell you the difference between the two. I can't stand it when we can not instantly understand what his parents are saying because all I want to do is to directly talk to them. At first I thought we going to order individually, however that would have been a great mess because Amy I. and I could hardly decipher what was what, but luckily Gusti sat on his kings thrown at the end of the table and ordered away and by away I mean he us his life away and we had enough food at the table to feed an army. While the meal was quiet delicious, I must admit I still loved the home cooked meal from last night the best. Actually stuffed to the brim, we were finally able to convince Gusti that we did not need any more food and that all we needed was our nice little beds but he made us promise that if we were not getting dessert at the restaurant, then we had to come back to their house and eat dessert there. YIKES AND YUCKS, at this point in the evening I couldn't even imagine sticking another piece of food in my mouth, but sometimes you have to let your imagine stretch a bit, and if you allow it, it might allow your stomach to do the same thing. Before I knew it, I was eating chocolate tiramisu. I felt like I had been hypnotized to eat the food or something. Indeed they were delicious but I still can't believe all of that food fit inside of me. Bloated and exhausted from a wonderful day, I made the executive decision to head back home at 1:00 am, and the entire Isenberg crew hit the sack. Before getting into bed Amy I. and I wanted to watch some tele but unfortunately Romanian television turns into mid-night porn madness and with more than a few giggles, we had a difficult time finding something to watch, so I eventually gave up and left Amy I. in charge.

Ro-ma-ni-a.

Last night we had planned on getting up early so that we could have at least an hour to tour parts of Budapest before the van to Romania was going to pick us up. However if you thought getting five Isenberg's somewhere on time was difficult, just plop an Ezri in the mix and the word late is an understatement. We ended up having a scrumpt-didly-umptious marathon breakfast at the hotel. When we glanced at our clocks we were finally done, we realized it was 9:30, and touring was no longer an option but sitting and relaxing sure was. At 10, we loaded our bags into the Romanian van and then headed to the " Széchenyi Lanchid" bridge. Chris gave us a brief history lesson about the bridge. Apparently, the architect who designed it was a rather pompous man and upon its completion, he said that it was the absolute most impeccable and perfect bridge and that there were no mistakes in it. Rumor has it that he went so far as to say that if anyone found a mistake in it, he would commit suicide and jump off it. Some brave soul confessed that the lion statues that guarded the entrances to the bridge did not have tongues. Thus, the Pompous Architect, took his life. Sad story. Amy I. had a difficult time comprehending this and kept wondering if the body was ever found, and why he did it. The concept of the "Myth" is not something to introduce to her, if you don't want a million and one questions back. We took the bus to the tip top of Buda where we could see the entire city, especially all of Pest. We had an Isenberg family photo shoot, and then we headed back in the car to begin our journey to Chris's motherland, Romania, where Dracula was born. And thanks to Amy I., we now know it is home to the most "haunted houses" according to her favorite cable television show, Ghost Hunters. I climbed in the way back of the van and sacrificed an Isenberg pity fight, and even sat in the middle (middle child, middle seat, thats how the game goes). We all know that it doesn't matter where I sit, as long as I am sitting, I can pretty much go into narco narco state anywhere anytime. We arrived in Romania around 4:30. I wasn't sure what to expect. Chris once asked me what I thought Romania looked like and I all could imagine were peasant villages in depressing Eastern Europe. I am not trying to offend anyone, I only speak the truth. I guess it is like the same kind of question when I ask my friends at school or at camp what they think Kansas is like and all they think is farm land and horses imagined in black and white. Ordea, the city in Romania in which we were staying in, is far more interesting that Kanas City. I was blown away. You can physically see the affects of communism on the out skits of the city. Driving into the city were just block after blocks of neutral cement colored apartments. Luckily, Chris lived in the old part of the city, so his home was not transformed into a ticky tacky apartment, his neighborhood had a pleasant and charming personality. Some of the houses on his street were quite elaborate with decorative painting, like red and yellow. Our hotel was literally across the street from his house. Newly renovated, the hotel reminded me of a project from an episode of a TLC show or something Ty Pennington would have done because you could clearly understand the concept behind the hotel, but you could also tell that time and money were limited. It had only been a month since its grand opening and I am not sure how much longer it will last. Tonight's agenda was to attend a traditional orthodox Friday night shabbat with dinner and dancing (well dancing wasn't specifically included, but knowing Chris, it could always go there) Amy I. and I shared a room and Momma I. and Papa I. shared a room and little Adam I. got the honor of staying at the Ezri's house (but truthfully no one wanted him in their rooms....he smells bad, its not our fault) We dropped our bags off and then headed to finally meet and greet the Ezri family. We were kindly greeted by the Ezri family dog, a big german shepard who apparently knows Romanian, Hungarian, Hebrew and English (I don't think Chris ever told me his name) Before we even shook hands with our host and hostess to be, I noticed the large amount of food, prepared and beautifully decorating the table. Large amount is an understatement. We literally meated and greeted with our Romanian family (prosciutto, salami, sausage, you name it they probably had it). Gusti and Gabriella, mother and father of Sir Christian Ezri (Jewish name eh?) both stood not too tall but really too wide. Gusti, precious smile, shiny bald head, stern but cuddly. Gabriella, large but not in charge, unique but comforting. Gusti and Chris took us on a tour of their own personal art museum, aka their house. Gusti has an undying passion for art and from what I could understand, he collects art but is also an antique dealer. While my house is covered with color from head to toe, this house was covered in art and golden frames, and sculptures and clocks from top to bottom. Obviously Chris stored all of the Jewish paintings and antique hanukia and kiddish cups in his room. We gathered around the table as Gabriella continued to cook us more food. Finally at 5:55, we all took a reality check and realized that we needed to leave in 20 minutes for services. Papa I. hadn't even showered yet. Original game plan of 6:15 departure to JCC Ordea was not going to happen. Finally at 6:30 we packed in the cars and headed to Chris's most prized possession, his "campus" (which houses the synagogue and newly renovated JCC) Chris is the director of the JCC. I still can't believe sometimes that he is only 23. From what Chris had described to me about his struggles with growing up the Jewish community in Ordea, I thought his community was incredible. It is not easy to run a temple at the age of 23. We met in the synagogue first. The boys took their path to the right and us girls took our path to the left. The synagogue that they usually occupy was under construction, so instead we were next door in the smaller of the two. Mama I. put it best but the rabbi was doing so much praying and did not face the audience once, that he wouldn't have a clue if anyone was even there. You could tell Mama I. was annoyed by the fact that they still split men and women apart. I thought we were going to an Orthodox temple like the ones back home but it was no where near as strict. Weirdly enough people were quite the chatty (like chatty and kathy) chatters tonight and most of the time people were talking at normal voice level with their neighbor. After services, we did what we Isenbergs do second best...EAT. Surprising Adam I. didn't eat anything and the rest of us nibbled away at the chicken and potatoes. We sang songs, received a welcome speech and took a tour of the JCC. Chris and his very dear and close friend, Edith, took us on a mini tour of the neighborhood. Edith is only 21, is about to graduate college with three degrees, is involved in the Jewish Community just as much as Chris is, and she used to date Chris. She is just incredible. We came back home for late night chocolate cream puffs, with walnut strudel and Mama I. learned how to make meat and cabbage role ups. What a fabulous day in a fabulous city. This is one of those places, in which words can't capture what you need to describe it. Go there.

postedness on march 14th too thousand and aight.

Buda + Pest.

I was going to go to book arts for an hour this morning but the sun was shining, I needed to head to the airport around 11 and the Gorilla gave me the good idea of getting dried fruit before leaving, so skipping class was a much better idea. Today was my first time actually flying out of the Florence airport since I have been here. Simple as pie. I had ants in my pants the entire flight and I can say with all Allison Isenberg honesty, I did not fall asleep, not even a simple rest my eyes moment, on the way to Budapest. Honestly how could I, lady was coughing on me the entire way. I wasn't sure what to think of Budapest, I had heard it was everyones favorite place to visit, but I just couldn't picture Hungary being one of the most beautiful places to visit. But once I arrived in the city of Pest I could understand. The feeling of getting out of a cab in front of an actual hotel with spinning circle doors and marble floors made me feel like the Queen of Florence. I didn't know how to get a hold of my parents because I tried calling Papa I's cell phone number when I got off the plane but he didn't answer. I was able to get a hold of Amy I. through the phone at the receptionists desk and I made my way up to her room. In her delusional state of sleeping mind, she gave me the wrong room number and I tried a few wrong doors before I decided I should just go back down stairs to actually have them look it up. Amy I. was shnuggled up in the big down comforter in the elegant traditionally designed room with elaborate floral print wall paper. Amy I. was overly exhausted from her long day of travel and she could barely form words together to make coherent and complete sentences. I, on the other hand was hungry in Hungary. I was going to venture out to find food by myself because I had no idea where the rest of my family was. However, standing in the lobby as I was coming out of the elevator was Momma I. and Papa Isenberg standing with our family friend Chris. I decided to play a little trick on them, and I walked right up to them without saying anything and proceeded to join in on their conversation. It took Momma I. a second to actually realize that her long lost daughter was standing right in front her. When she finally did, she almost jumped out of her shoes and her smile hit her ears. While Skype was a genius invention and I will admit I do see my Momma's pretty face a lot, there is nothing like giving a big hug to your mom and pops in real life. Although they were just coming back from eating lunch with Chris, they were more than willing to join me for another round of lunch. I had the best chicken quesadilla with quac and grilled chicken and veggies. Momma I. didn't think it would be possible for me to eat a quesadilla the size of the moon but I had no problem downing that bad boy. We walked around just to see some of the city in the day light because we aren't going to see very much of it because we are going to meet Mr. Christian Ezri, the Romanian Jewy Mc. Jews, family and motherland. Momma I. forced Little Adam I. and Amy I. out of bed in order to help them from being their tired bodies get on a regular schedule. We walked around the old city of pest at night and ate at a very traditional Hungarian restaurant. It was so nice and wonderful to finally be with my family that I couldn't stop smiling. Just to clarify a few things. The reason we all met in Budapest was to a. see a glimpse of Hungary b. in order to meet and see our friend Chris Ezri who actually lives in Romania which is four hours from Budapest, but it was easier to fly into Hungary. For those of you wondering who this Mr. Chris Ezri guy is and why my family knows someone in Romania...here is the deal. For the past two summers, Chris, the Romanian Jew, age 23, tall, thick, with glasses and a heavy accent has been living in Amy I'. bed room to learn about how to run a Jewish community. This probably seems odd for a 23 year old but Chris is a well respected youth leader in his town and has been trying to learn from different Jewish communities in the States how to better operate his own, including programing, fundraising and what not. A little over my head but it is pretty incredible. Chris worships my dad, and if he could, Chris would probably build a shrine of my Dad in his house. He actually wants to be my Dad. Chris considers us his second family and calls Little Adam I. his brother. Amy I. and I are little removed from this whole family relationship but I have met Chris a couple of times and Amy I. has only talked to him on Skype before. Thus. Papa I. decided that we Isenberg's were going to meet his second sons family while we were all here in his neck of the woods. I am excited to see what Romania is like, I can't even imagine it. The itinerary for the Isenberg European Extravaganza goes as follows: Budapest to Romania, Romania to Florence, Florence to Rome. The family is back together, which puts me back together!

Hump Day.

Happy Hump Day.
Tonight we headed to Noir for a fancy in your pants, fancy pants, apertivo. Every single time we go there the Gorilla and I begin our by saying and swearing that we are not going to eat as much as we did the last time. Indeed every time we eat more than we did the time before. The only bad thing about this apertivo is that I never end up liking their drinks. If I order the fruity drinks that I really like, like a Belini, everyone gets mad at me for ordering a drink that costs as much as just buying the whole bottle. So I tried to be a bit more risky and order something that people would approve of, like a pina colada but I ended up hating it, only drinking a small amount and handing the rest of it to the Gorilla and her Gorilla mate. They got the job done. Like after all Noir apertivo's we needed to chase down the salty, rich food with a Coca Cola Light. We ended up finding a hole in the wall room full of vending machines and Coca Cola Lights and Diet Pepsi's. And a one of a kind....only-in-the-pasta-capital-of-the-world, would we find a vending machine that serves ready to eat, hot pasta cuisines to go. For just 3.50 euro, you don't have to bother with service fees, just the simple plop and drop of coins is all you have to do (but I can't guarantee it will be good). I am going to taste one before I leave. We ended up making this magical vending machine room into a 7th grade hang out spot. We did a taste test to see if we each could tell the differences between Coca Cola regular, Coca cola light and Diet pepsi. The Gorilla mate was obviously the worst at it. Truth be told, we can make anything fun. Who needs Yab or BeBop or Marcano and alcohol when you have a room full of vending machines and taste testing. The children headed back home for shnuggle time and movie watching, while I made my way over to the Meredith of Looney Looney's house to chit chat and pick up my long awaited package my mom sent with her abroad a good three weeks ago. You know you are lucky when you have friends in your life that you might not talk to everyday or even every couple of months or even a year but still when you get together it is as if nothing has changed. I have a few of those lucky friendships. I am off to Budapest tomorrow to meet reunite with the whole family. Watch out all of Europe, the Isenberg's are coming to town and I just can't wait.

The Chomp Heard Round The World.

In book arts I learned yet another way of making a book. This time it was an actual hard back book with a binding, with book cloth in all. I met the Gorilla and her Gorilla mate at Anna's for some afternoon delight. We originally headed to the market to get dried fruit but then decided that it would be fun and delicious to cook dinner tonight. We stopped at Froto's Fruit station and picked up some crack (and by crack I mean the dried fruit must have some time of crack in it because every single time I tell myself that I am not going to eat all of it in one sitting, I find my self scavenging in the very depths of the bag for more and in no time at all they are all gone) The menu for dinner tonight: Chicken topped with mushrooms and tomatoes, garnished with carrots and onions, with a side of broccoli and cauliflower, and some sweet potato fries as a special treat. For dessert, fresh cinnamon apple crisp (minus the crisp). I wandered on over to the Cavour palace to say goodbye to my two little friends before they left for Rome and picked up my makeup along the way. Our photog teacher had a comi-hippie freak out on my class today because none of us were prepared with the right type of film. Our next project is Polaroid transfers but rather than using straight up polaroids, we have to use slide film and then use this pretty sweet mania machine that projects the 35 mm image on a piece of polaroid. Then we take the Polaroid and remove the film by soaking in hot hot hot h20 and we can place the film onto any surface our little hearts desire. It sounds cool and it is actually very cool, however the really un-cool part of about it is that the polaroid film that we have to buy costs 40 euros and the side film costs 8 and to develop the slide film costs another 8 and we have to develop two rolls which means we have to buy two rolls of film, which probably means we will have to buy another pack of paper knowing my comi-hippi teacher. All I have to say is that this project better be pretty cool (actually more than just pretty, over-the-top-makes-you-slobber-gallery-looking-pieces-of-art-cool) I have no fear, it will be amazing. For dinner the Gorilla and her Gorilla mate and I cooked up a feast in the Via dei Ginori hellish kitchen. It was just fabulous until chompety chomp chomp chomp decided that it was socially acceptable to come into our family dinner and use her finger to snatch our food. I wouldn't have had a problem with it if she a. asked to eat some of our food b. if she had used a fork to eat our food c. if she didn't chomp and smack her food like a baby eating baby food with no teeth into a megaphone but she did all of the above and thats when problems started arise. The Gorilla eventually got fed up when after weaseled her greasy fat hands into our sacred pot of sweet potatoes fries, and thank goodness the Gorilla had Gorilla balls to night and she shoo flied her away. She didn't get the very evident social cues were forwarding to her (thinking blinking lights in your eyes) and that we would rather eat OUR dinner with just OURselves tonight because we cooked OUR own meal, instead she proceeded to tell us how the nude model in her painting class was hung like the cinnamon shaker on our table. You thought those words would be enough mental visuals for everyone to understand, and indeed they were for me. But for some reason, she didn't think we got it, so she proceed to take the cinnamon from the table and do a dance with it. This is getting rather graphic for me to write and the visuals that are popping up in my head right now as I write this in bed are going to give me nightmares...ahh. I will never look at my cinnamon shaker the same. We semi-finished our dinner in peace, remembering the good ol' smeaster days and smeaster wonders. We could tell that Pants was going to linger over our leftovers because she had yet to cook herself her own meal even though she continuously said she was hungry that she was going to make dinner, but she just didn't feel like it. Knowing that tomorrow night and the next I wasn't going to be eating at the house, I offered her the left over cauliflower in the pot (the worst part of the meal). It was as if she hadn't eaten in days. Lick, slurp, burp, and work. She worked that bowl clean with chomps that from the kitchen sounded like stomps. I got so nauseous I decided that I would assign the Gorilla mate the "clear the table" job and I would do the dishes instead so that the sound of the water would drown out the chomps. We thought about going out tonight, but instead decided that going to bed was a much better option.


"By the rude bridge that arched the flood,
Their flag to April's breeze unfurled,
Here once the embattled farmers stood
And listened to the CHOMP HEARD ROUND THE WORLD."

postness from 15 of march.
its 2008

Funky Monday.

The weather was funky today. A little rain and little sun.  Back to school, back to school. Today started the second half of my semester.  We received our midterm grades and some how I improved my grade in Art History by doing average on my midterm.  We get report cards from our teachers and Dolby wrote " Keep doing studying (??)". I guess I will just keep doing it. I thought that something extremely dramatic happened to my Italian teacher today because when she came in for class, her eyes were swollen and she was wearing jeans and tennis shoes. More than the swollen eyes, the whole clothing thing gave me some kind of signal that something was up. We all went around the room sharing our most entertaining spring break stories and then finally at the end she revealed that her cat died. She directly say that her cat died, rather she said "We lost our cat last night" followed by a few head nods (thus emplying that the cat was gone forever) Not to be a cruel, evil person, and nobody should feel the need to send PITA after me, but I thought something serious had happened. My teacher lives on a farm and has over a dozen cats (YIKES and YUCK!) and that is the only thing I think that is bad about her. I learned in my art history class that cats are the devils animal, and sure enough I believe that. They just freak me out. Okay enough about the cats, I do feel sorry for my teacher but maybe she should wear a sign saying "My cat died" to let everyone know what was wrong. You know those times when you just don't want to talk about something, you should just post a sign on your back to give everyone the heads up. I started a project in painting. "Heightened Color Still Life". I am a little bored with this whole still life thing but at least I get to use not such depressing colors. After class, I decided to continute to take some action towards the new waves, curves and bumps that I have noticed on my body over the past two weeks and went for a suprisingly beautiful run. Not only was the scenery beatiful, but my body felt beautiful while running and after the run. I guess when you are running along the arno, there isn't very much you can complain about. I was in a kind funcky monkey monday mood and didn't feel like doing too much tonight. I made left-overs for dinner and by that I mean, I put everything that I had left over from dinner on Saturday and lunch on Sunday, into a big bowl and chopped and stirred away some lettuce, with some peas, some diced tomatoes, a few carrot slices here and there, and then topped it with tomato paste and parmesean cheese. Attempted to watch 27 Dresses in bed tonight, but was pretty much unsuccessful.

the postness of the mondayday of days in the month of months of march madness. The day of the 10th. 

Sunday Is A Good Day To Do Nothing. + "I Didn't Feel Ill After Il Latini. Well Only A Little Bit."

definitelyI tried really hard with all of my might to sleep in but for some reason I just couldn't make it past 9:30. It is just bizarre. All I know is that, I am definitely a morning person. I really felt like doing absotut-en-lutely NOTHING TODAY. Well actually that might be a little bit of a lie (for those of you who find yourself stuck on the chi-o couch all day doing nothing, or any couch in general, I did a little bit more than you did today but don't worry about it, it wasn't much.) I decided it was time I stand up against my fears, my doubts and my rolls of fat and make this whole running thing a new activity in my agenda. Emmmmiiilllyyy (thats how she sounds) decided to join me. It was actually nice to have her along, someone to talk to and listen to. We hit a wee bit of road block on a journey (but a fortunate road block indeed) and discovered that on the first or second Sunday of the month, there is a huge market along the river, the market went on forever. They had buttons, fabric, shoes, clothes, underwear, pig heads, pig legs, gummy stands, and even those special knifes advertised on TVtav.  Eventually Emily and I escaped the market, so we could finish the rest of our run. I came home, decided that showering was overrated, and decided that sitting in my kitchen doing unimportant google searches, blog entries and picture editing was a good use of my time. The Gorilla left me in the kitchen while her and her Gorilla mate ventured outside into the streets of Florence, and 2 hours later, the Gorilla and her Gorilla mate returned and I had not moved an inch. Around 6:00, I decided that I should probably get my move-on and shower because tonight was another night of stuffed stomach fun. Tonight the Gorilla and her Gorilla mate, Erica, Justin-all-the-way-from-barca-barca, Sara, and D-Tislner and I headed to the infamous Il Latini for another shot at the worlds most delicious and filling Italian cuisine.  Before we made our to our 7:30 reservation, we enjoyed some cheers followed by a gulp of champagne while looking at the duomo to welcome the visitors to the best city in the world. If you remember from last time, I came home from Il Latini thinking I was going to rocket power food my from belly button. This time however, I was slightly more prepared so I tried to minimize my food intake in order to save myself from any such actions as exploding my belly button. We all gathered around the table (a not so crowded one) and dined and wined, told stories of weekend adventures and caught up on life and its journeys. The menu was pretty much the same as last time and I was able to ooo and ahh over the "little blanket" pasta smothered in boar sauce. However, I must say, that the dessert and the waiter were much better the first time around. Surprisingly, I was able to get up from the table and actually walk all the way back home without feeling like I was going to vomit (high five) D-Tils decided that it would be a good idea to be a Luke Sky walker Litesaber from the illegal immigrant selling light up sunglasses, flowers and swords. Rather than asking the price, D-Tils reached in his pocket, pulled out all of the change he had (nothing more than a euro and something) and plopped in the guys hand and took the sword. Highly entertaining! Pretty much in food coma, I came home and went right to bed. Last night of Spring Break. Sad indeed.

postness from the dayness of marchness 9thnic.

You Know You Are Out To Late When Your Morning Alarm Goes Off While You Are Out At The Bar.

I got back from Seville at 10:30 pm, packed my bags, took a bath and then went straight to bed. I set my alarm for 3:45 am and called down to the front desk and requested a cab for 4:30 am. I did not sleep so well or so long and kept waking up every hour thinking I had missed my alarm. My travels back to my motherland revovled around timing and I think I looked at the clock at 12, 1, and 2, and then again at 3:30 (the worst of all because I was actually conscious enough to know that my alarm would be going off in 15 minutes and the feeling of death swarms over you and all you want to do is cry because you just want to sleep more) Luckily the front desk was a 24 hour service and the cab was waiting for me outside. I think that the strange pick up hours led to strange information because the cab driver thought he was taking me to the airport but I needed to go the bus station. 10 minutes into our little drive, I wanted to make sure he knew where the bus station was and he freaked out and said "bus station?..we go to Malaga airport...you go to airport" and naturally I freaked out and said "NO! I go to Marbella bus station" and then he goes "Come on, airport only 100 euros" Excuse me, ONLY a 100 euros. Do you know what I could do with 100 euros, do you know how many juice boxes I could get at the euro store with a 100 euro's...100. Do you now how many apertivos I could go to with a 100 euro's..10. Do you know that I could fly from Florence to Barcelona for 100 euros and I could even take a tour, eat lunch and buy 5 scraves in Morocco for 100's. I immeditaly said no and insisted on him taking me to the Marbella bus station, where I would then catch the bus to the airport and it would only cost me 4 euros (even that is too much). For some reason, he didn't immediatly get off the highway but decided to drive for another 10 minutes while I questioned him which exit he should get off at. Luckily I ordered the cab extra early just to guarentee that I would be able to get on the 5:30 bus to the Malaga airport. At one point I thought I was going to die (I guess a normal human being would probably not think this but for some reason, just like Dave Eggers, I always think someone is out to get me) because we drove around a sketchy area. Finally, I made it to the bus station (in one piece). The stupid cab driver tried to charge me 75 euro but when I explained to him that I wasn't stupid and that my friend had done the exact same drive the day before, and he replied 50. Not until I threatened to call the Marriott (because this time, it was not my fault) did he actually pull out his price book and said that it was "apparently" 34 euro. He still tricked me a little bit because the Gorilla only paid 24 the day before but at the time, that being 4:53 in the morning, it seemed like my best option. The bus was only five minutes delayed which is good for Europeans because they are on their own schedules. I half napped, half read. 45 minutes later I arrived at the airport, checked my bag, and then waited for the flight to take off. Whoever said one needs to be at the airport 2 hours before the flight is a big fat lier. An hour will do. You would be fine with 45 but I guess I can't make this assumtion because this time around in Spain, we actuallly booked a flight on a legit airline.  I finally arrived in Bologna, Italy and then took a bus to the train station and then a train back to Flo-to-the-orence.  I was so nice to be back in my homeland, however the weather was not so nice.  For some reason, I felt the undying desire to go running, so I took a nice little stroll through the park that runs along the Arno.  Tonight we headed over to the Cavour apartment of wonder, for winey wino and clear drinks that don't taste too good. Justin, the J-nuss of nusses was visiting from Barcelpski, so we all celebrated his arrival with a night out to Space.  Despite what many say and what many people might think, I just love Space and always have such a wonderful time. Sara and I did what we do best and took over the dance floor with our crazy dance moves.  All of the sudden at 3:45 my phone started ringing mid shoulder leaning and I reached into my purse only to find out that the ringing was actually my alarm that I had set the night before to make my flight.  That was the sign it was time for me to go home and go to bed.  Alarms are not supposed to go off when you are out the next night, thats when you know its time to go.  It is great to be back. I had a wonderful time in Spain.  Life is good, life is great, I am good and I am great.

postness from the sat-her-day the 8thness of march. 

Seville.

PICTURES

ARE ALL 

YOU NEED

TO SEE.

they just happen

to be on a plane

back to KC

[coming soon]

We Just Can't Get Enough.

How To Work Your Poody Pouch.

I made a video out of this but for some reason it won't let me show it to the general public, if you want to see it on the big screen, it will be shown the red carpet in the Isenberg theatre upon my return.

postness from march 6th 2 thousand and aight. 

A Fashion of Shows.

When You Go To Africa.

Originally we had planned to take on Africa on our own (the Gorilla is part African, however many people do not know that) but some how we resorted (no pun intended) in signing up for the tour to Tangier through the Marriott. Based on the look of the people waiting in the lobby with us at 7:05 am (yes, we were judging), we expected the group to be a much more lively and on the younger end of the spectrum. Our not so friends, Peter, Pink Shirt Boy and Earing Man joined us in the lobby at 7:05. We were apparently supposed to be leaving the hotel at 7:05, thus the Gorilla and I woke up at 6:00 to shower and drink coffee. Did I mention how we were supposed to leave a 7:05...However around 7:35, the bus finally rolled its wheels through the gates and we hopped aboard. 54 out of the 61 of the people on the bus were anywhere from 20 to 30 years older than the Gorilla and I. It was the worlds most touristy bunch. We got the visors, the fanny packs, the neck packs, the water bottle packs, the high socks, the big sun glasses (not the ones in style now), and the loud voices galore. The minute we stepped on the bus the Gorilla and I looked at each other and then wanted to run but then we remembered we were going to Africa and we couldn't really care that much. We took a 45 minute bus ride to the port. Luckily it was another fabulous day and from the port we could see Africa, Gibraltor and all of Spain. We climbed aboard the ferry, and rocked our way to Africa. Tangier is definitely a touristy port, and houses a cluster of different religions and nationalities, however it has a very strong Muslim community. Our tour comprised of a bus ride up the coast of Tangier where the Mediterranean meets the Atlantic, and then a quick stop off the side of a mountain for a camel ride and by ride I mean a sit on a camel, while the old men hecklers made lots of money from the old touristy men on our bus (they all got back on the bus shocked that they had spent so much money, they just couldn't believe it, but I was able to believe it because I saw it all go down.  Men would approach and ask for ridiculous amounts of money for their copper and gold dipped metal bracelets and rather than bargaining, the old Amurican men replied with a simple yes and in return received a handful of "worse than costume jewelry" jewelry. Camel riding (or I would say camel sitting) and bracelet buying led to a walk through the streets and a stop at a snake charmer, which (slowly but surely) led to a traditional Morroccan feast with mint green tea and belly dancers (the Gorilla thought one of them looked like the real freaky-retainer-talking-roommate...katiemb) We then headed to Africa's version of a car show but instead of cars, they were selling rugs.  A little man dressed in traditional apparel with little pointy yellow shoes, auctioned off different rugs.  Deep down inside, I hated these men because you could tell they were slimmy-money-suckers and everything in their store was very toursity and extremely marked up.  At this point, the Gorilla and I just wanted to run.  There were streets and streets of open air markets and all we wanted to do was explore.  We played the game of "who can take the best pictures with out looking through the lens" game, but a winner was never determined. After the carpet showdown we were given time to explore a few of the streets.  The Gorilla and I scattered from the group when scattering was allowed.  We bought scarves and checked out the different hole in the wall stores.  15 minutes was not that much scatter time but it was enough for us.  The good thing about this whole touristy tour was that it gave us a small taste (the size of a salt crystal) of Morocco and let us know that we are going to return. Around 5 we headed back on the ferry with our new best friends.  We met a Dilf and his two sons on their spring break and we chatted up a storm with them.  Through out this whole vacation, I keep saying "I feel like my parents should be here with me" and thus we adopted a few new families along the way. We headed to the grocery to get supplies for dinner.  Two boxes of cereal and a jug of milk (I would tell you the size but I can't read the labels here so a jug is a jug) It was all we needed to make the worlds greatest concoction. The Gorilla and I had a fashion show and watched more tele...we are really trying to soak up everything here including the sun, the television, the washer, the dryer, the coffee maker...just to name a few.  Today was just incredible and I still can't believe that I am writing this blog about going to Africa.  I have been to Africa.  

When You Go To Africa.

   


  

p.s. THIS IS THE JUMPING MAN...watch him jump

"Palm Tree Maintenance Team" -mbp

Who Knew Owning A Marriott Timeshare Could Be So Depressing?

With all of our guests gone, the Gorilla and I decided to transform back into our 20 year old bodies but switching over to our 80 year old mindsets. I woke up rather early because the silly alarm clock next to my bed was set for an hour later so when I thought it was acceptable to wake up at 9:40, I really woke up at 8:40 (which is not acceptable) Rather than jumping out on to the beach like we did yesterday, I decided that a nice bubble bath would be a good idea, so I hopped in the tub and read my book. I met the Gorilla down stairs at the gym around 9:45 (the real 9:45) and worked out for the first time in a very long time. After being in a bathing suit so much, I realized that I have grown in places that I didn't even know exisited before. A nice little run wouldn't hurt. At 11:30 we met down at the resturant for a "Paella and Sangria Demo". Gathered in a half moon shape around the grill, three older woman and one man sat ready with paper at hand to learn how to make these Spanish cuisines. I have been feeling a little funky the past two days, and my stomach has been uber reactive to the food here, so I didn't feel so good today. Before the cooking class started one of the women was talking about something and all of the sudden my ears zoomed in and I heard in a surprisingly cheerful tone with a harsh southern American accent "well since my husband is dead and I have no children, I thought I might get a timeshare" and then the lady sitting next to her was like "Yeah, my husband is dead too, and I don't have any children either" The Gorilla turned to me and in a very quite voice and mimicked their accents "Well, because I don't have a husband and never want children, I have a Marriott timehshare" It was funny and depressing at the same time to hear these ladies talk. They should definitely not be on the Marriott's board for advertising because you can only imagine a bill board reading "With my husband dead and no children, the Marriott was the perfect place to invest my money". Pointed-sideburns-sweatsuit man taught us how to make Sangria and Paella. Even though my stomach wanted to kill Paella, it was much easier to eat knowing that a. it was free and b. how it was made. Sometimes I wonder when I am eating it, what is what? The Gorilla and I headed down to the beach for the day. Read, Slept, Read Slept. I am living the life. We rented Insomnia from the gift shop and ate Smacks and popcorn for dinner.

Peggy.

I woke up feeling rather sick, my stomach felt like it was slowly caving in on me and I am not too surprised if it actually did because I have been using and abusing it lately and I think it is finally fighting back. It was a little colder today than it was yesterday but it started to really warm up around 3. We literally sat on the beach all day. Moni and I played a few games of ping pong and a couple rounds of paddle board on the beach. Unfortunately Monica had to head home today so around 5:15. We headed down stairs for "Complementary-Welcome-To-The-Marriott" drinks and appetizers. Obviously Peggy was in charge of the event. She greeted us at the doors. We wandered around for little bit trying to find a nice couple to sit down and chat with, but rather than greeting us with open arms, we felt as though everyone was staring at us. Peggy eagerly wanted to introduce us to a few of her guests, as she called them. She told us that she introduces all of her guests to other guests so they can form long lasting friendships. She escorted us outside and sitting on the couches were a group of 5 younger boys from Georgetown University (I only say "younger' because they were younger than 50). We had noticed them on the beach today but decided that they were probably not the kind of people we would want to talk to when we realized that they were already sunbathing at 9:30 in the morning with tanning oil. I felt like we are a Penny Vrooman event, and Peggy was Penny and she was introducing us to our future husbands. The Gorilla, Pony and I awkwardly mingled with Peggy's guests. Peter, Pink shirt boy, earring boy, Oliver, the new Barcelpski (whom we later found out, is actually from Jordan but his family lives on a camp in Saudi Arabia but goes to Georgetown) are sophomores on their Spring Break. We exchanged questions like where were from, what friends we knew, where we were studying abroad and by favorite from "special" Peter, what type of SPF we used. Luckily, the Pony had to catch a flight which meant we ALL had to escort her up stairs. We were able to escape the awkward turtles. It was like when our moms used to be waiting outside Leawood Country club in their mini van's and the minute we shut the door, the awkward tension from fox trotting with Mr. Mc-sweaty-palms would finally be over. The Gorilla and I headed to dinner at this cute little restaurant on the beach next to the hotel for seafood salads. The view was incredible, it was like we were floating on the water, while sipping Coke Cola Lights. Yum Yum. We shnuggled up in the pull out couch to watch the Born Identity (love the Born movies) and then went to bed.

Sunday Is A Good Day To Do Nothing, Especially When You Are On A Beach In Gorgeous Weather.

Karp and Joj shnuggled in one bed, the Gorilla and the Pony in a barn together and Me, Monica, and Lime spooned in the king sized bed. We all woke up at different times but Momma Monica cooked everyone a scrumpt-didly-umptious breakfast. French toast with jam and peanut butter. We all gathered outside on our balcony (oh I forgot to mention, we have a balcony) for a nice family breakfast and then we gathered our belongings and headed down to the beach. Unfortunately Joj, Karp and Lime had to head back to their motherland today, so they packed up their bags and went on their way. We soaked up the sun all day. Monica and I ventured out to the game room and played a couple rounds of ping pong for our afternoon entertainment. We stupidly ordered in paella and salad from a Spanish restaurant for dinner. I don't say stupidly because it was a stupid idea to order Paella, we just paid a stupid amount of money for it. And after we ate it, all I could think was, man we paid a lot of money for that stuff. We are really trying to mesh in the our environment, thus activities like ordering in food and watching movies, rather than going out, were key. We all shnuggled up and watched Rataoullie on the TV (we have a TV with a DVD player...did I mention that) Typical, I feel asleep for a majority of the movie. We decided to form a cult and dress up/ wrap ourselves in the itchy extra blankets from the fold out couch and go star gazing. I was on the only one who saw a shooting star. I started to feel a little sick. The Paella didn't settle so well in the my stomach. Early bed time (at least for out standards)

You Know You Are the Worlds Luckiest Person, When You Get To Live Next To This. (See Below)

Sometimes the pretty-pony should not be released out into the wild (public) to make her own decisions, especially when the decision of going to the bathroom results in having to wait for two hours to get the next bus. We woke up this morning, after another good nights sleep and decided that going to the grocery to get breakfast was a much better idea than eating the "included" wrapper packed deal. With a large box of Smacks and a plate of apples in hand we headed down to the beach to get some coffee. Ordering coffee lead to ordering croissants, which lead to eating Smacks at the table while eating croissants and drinking coffee. The Pretty Pony finally arrived and we all hoped in a cab to Estepona. I wasn't really sure what to expect of Estepona because three days ago I thought we were staying in Malaga only to find out that we were staying in Marbella and then Estepona. Now I am not saying that the hostels that I have been staying at our gross or disgusting or unliveable (they have all been quite nice, even the trailer park) but when you are used to arriving at hostel up some alley way where the gift shop is a vending machine and your bathroom is open to the public, and you arrive at a Marriot with a security guard and gate with fountains and palm trees your world turns upside down and you butterflies in your stomach and ants in your pants and you think to yourself what a wonderful world. It was really like we had all been cut off from civilization for months and we had just stepped off the boat and elevators, a front lobby with sofa's and shiny marble, and free orange juice with ice where gold. We hit jackpot for sure. With Oo's and Ahh's flying out of our mouths we headed to our apartment. When we thought the front lobby was spectacular, we had no clue how good it could get. And it got good. You forget how much you appreciate the little things when they aren't around. A dishwasher (say goodbye to Gorilla hands and sponges) a microwave (say hello to popcorn) a coffee maker (say goodbye to espresso) a tea pot that plugs into the wall that heats up water, not just one but three TVs, a feather bed, two bath tubs, a double headed shower and best of all a WASHER AND A DRYER! See above. We received a welcome packet and a free bottle of nice wine. We were known to the hotel as the Johnson Family. Momma Isenberg was worried that because I am under the age of the 2 and the 1, that they wouldn't let me check in. It was a smart idea but putting the Gorilla in charge is not always so smart. After taking a tour of apartment, Peggy, the head of Marriot timeshare department, then called down and invited us, the Johnson Family, for a meet and greet. When I answered the phone she told me that I could bring my spouse down with me but I had to inform Peggy that it was me and three of my friends. Right after Peggy called, I received another call from the front desk informing me that I had a visitors wanting to talk to me. Visitors so soon! Sure enough, Lime, Joj, and Karp were able to make their way down and they were waiting in the lobby. The Gorilla and Pretty Pony headed to the grocery store to grab some grub for lunch and the rest of us wandered down to the beach to bathe in the rays. It was surprisingly much warmer than I expected and sun screen was imperative. Unfortunately, the only sun screen we could find was a 25 euro bottle in the gift shop, but we reasoned that 25 euros now is much better than skin cancer later. (such smart girls are we) We toasted and roasted in the sun all day. They had three out door pools but they were all freezing (aka not heated) but who needs a pool when you have the ocean. However, I think I lost the tip of my foot when it touched the water. It didn't take us long to figure out that most of the people staying the hotel were any where from 20 to 40 years older than us. Thats why I am the worlds luckiest person and I secretly love old people, just not topless ones. Yes there was a separate part for topless only. Around 5, it started to get a little cold (this is a typical feeling when the sun goes down), so we all headed up, showered up, cleaned up and got ready for dinner-up. We made our way into the port for dinner, 5 minute cab up the coast. It would probably seem like a bad idea to most people to head to an Italian restaurant in Spain when one is studying Italy and one eats Italian food everyday, however Peggy gave us a recommendation of a place to eat and we couldn't resist a recommendation from Peggy. I know that by the end of this trip Peggy and I are going to be best friends. I mean come on her name is Peggy. We went a restaurant called Picasso (Picasso was born in Malaga, Spain) What seemed like a bad idea (that being going to the Italian restaurant) was actually the best idea ever. We ordered greek salad, bbq pizza (like the kind at CPK), a cheese and veggie. Our original plan was to all get dinner together and then all go out together but every party has a pooper and thats why we invited the Pony, the Gorilla and Karp (party poopers!) Monica, Lime and I were brave souls and decided to check out the nightlife in Estepona, Spain. It took us just about the same amount of time to observe the age range at the hotel as it did for us to realize that we were also dealing with a different generation of clubers, dancers, and bar-ers. We asked our waiters were to go out, and they recommended this strip of bars just behind the restaurant. Ironically we ran into our waiters later in the evening and they kept buying us drinks. We were quite the bar hoppers, if we didn't like a song in one place, we would walk next door and check it out. My favorite bar was this little Irish pub filled with an older generation of people dancing to the classics (some like to call them the oldies). We did some finger snappin, some twisting and shouting and we even belted a little brown-eyed girl. I felt like we were at Bar-Mitzvah in an Irish pub. Monica obviously got into the dancing. She is just so good and I look like a fool next her. Well actually, at point in the evening my dancing was actually better than hers. All of the sudden (in the Irish pub) this older man, 50 years of age if I had to guess, started to dance with all of us, but then out of no where he must of thought the song got really exciting because he just started jumping and flopping his arms in the air. He was a machine! So naturally, Monica decided that in order to dance with him she needed to do the same thing. Lime and I backed off at this point. It looked like they were doing an ancient rain dance. Arms were flying, legs were jumping. It was quite the sight to see. I still can't figure out how the man didn't pass out because Monica was about to break a sweat, and he continued to dance like this even after Monica stopped. I forgot to mention the best part of the story, the man was wearing really dark designer sunglasses, so you couldn't see his eyes. It was all fun and games until a table or a chest (we couldn't figure it out) fell from the second floor onto a table of glasses. Luckily no one was hurt but thats when decided it was probably a good idea to leave. Around 2, we made our way back home exhausted from a superb day.

100 Posts from the Poster.

THIS IS MY 100th POST!
We woke up from a good nights slumber only find out that the "included" breakfast that was mentioned on their website, was actually not included unless you paid an extra 2.50. I am not sure about you but having to pay any extra is not something I would call included. Obviously we got it but after eating it I regretted every second of it. It was euro store croissants (and trust me I know everything that comes out of that euro store, you can't fool me), watered down O to the J and what I thought was going to be a big cup of coffee American style, ended up being a big cup of luke warm milk with a few droplets of coffee. Just slightly disappointed about this whole breakfast thing, the Gorilla and I decided to head to the water, to grab a cup of coffee on the beach. When all is said and done, you can't be disappointed when you just paid 2.50 for a terrible breakfast, when you can leave and say "hey lets go the beach". We had a few hours to kill before the besty of the bestest, Miss Monica Beth (she hates when people know her middle name...but spread the world it is BETH) was to meet us at the hostel. We finally purchased some new 2 in 1 shampoo conditioner combo after a month of thinking that we were both being sneaking about stealing our roommates hair products. I also bought a HUGE bottle of Johnson and Johnson's Baby Body Lotion, the kind that makes little kids butts smooth. Our apartment is really dry and my skin looks similar to an alligator with spots. Remind me if I ever start freaking out because I can't understand how and when and where I spent all of my money, calm me down and mention "lotion". The lotion that I bought was 5 euros (that is 10 American dollars for Johnson and Johnson's baby lotion!) But hey it was the cheapest one, and now I am going to be soft like a babies butt. Okay where was I. Monica finally called us and we rushed her into the hostel, so she could change into her bathing suit. We all felt a little disgusted looking at our pale, (mine rather giggly) bodies in the mirror but you only live once. Naturally after talking about how ugly we looked, we decided we should eat. Even when your feeling down, eating always makes you feel better. We headed down to the beach and attempted to lay out on a random hotel's beach chairs but that didn't last too long. 5 euros each when we could just lay out on our stolen towels, not worth it. We ordered chicken salads, "chips" (as Monica now calls them...but the rest of us who are not a proper, we can then french fries) and a huge pitcher of Sangria. The salads were delicious and come to think of it, it is the first "real" large salad that I have had since I have been here. AND THEY HAD KETCHUP. Oh how I miss ketchup. I think you can buy it here for you know 12 euro. I don't love it that much. It was not boob-sweat-hot-dying-to-jump-in-the-ocean-hot but it was potential sun tan weather, and it was warm enough for me. We all crashed on the salt and pepper beach until around 4:30, when decided that we should probably go back, take showers, and EAT AGAIN. I feel like 90 percent of my blogs are describing the food that I eat, but I am really good at it, so I feel I must tell you all. Monica actually got burnt but only half of her body. She was the only one remotely sitting in the sun during lunch but you can't escape the sun. We all got dressed and headed down stairs to get a recommendation for dinner. Not to complain because I feel like this entire post is me just complaining but we did indeed walk around the whole city in search of the restaurant that the little Argentinean woman swore to us that every local would know and that we had to go to get real Spanish food. We kept asking everyone where it was because we were lost and my little amount of spanish did not help. In circles and in circles we did go until I stopped a woman whom I thought might actually know English but like the old saying goes you can't judge a book by its cover. She knew less english than anyone we had already asked but she understood us enough and rather than trying to explain where to go she just made us follow her. There was no escaping her, she was on a mission. Around a few corners and down a few blocks we finally got to the "El Gallo" restaurant only to find out that it was closed. We would of never found it on our own probably because there was NO sign for the street that it was located on nor a sign with the restaurants name on it. So instead of being adventurous, we decided that the 5 euro greasy chinese buffet was a much better idea. and sure enough, it was. Stuffed, bloated, fat-pig are words to describe my feelings after dinner. We were going to go out but after our little dinner adventure we decided that eating lemon-ice in bed while watching a movie was a much better idea. I never hate a night in in my pj's eating food, watching a movie, with my two lovers. "Snatch" was the bed time story of choice. It didn't take me more than 15 minutes to fall asleep, so don't even worry. Tomorrow off to Estepona. Not sure if Lime, Joj and Karp are coming anymore. I got an anonymous call earlier today. It ended up being Lime and in 15 seconds she explained that she didn't know if they were going to be able to make it down anymore. Without little explanation, she was gone. We shall see.

Just Call Me An Elephant.

The Gorilla and I have truly gotten better at this whole traveling thing and every time we fly it just seems to get easier and easier. I guess it helps when the airport is actually located in the city that it says it is. I guess it also helps when the airline is a legit airline, where you don't have to pay to get your boarding pass and I guess it helps when you actually sorta kinda know what you are doing. So here is the skinny (on the not so skinny) Spring Break. The Gorilla and I are heading to Malaga, Spain. For two nights we are staying in Marbella (just 45 minutes south of Malaga) because our hotel deal is a Saturday to Saturday kinda thang. Monica, the bestest of the besties, is coming down all the way from London on Friday night, then on Saturday morning, if all goes to plan, Amy-the-pretty-pony, is going to come down from Barcelpski and meet us in Marbella, then we are all going to take a cab from Marbella to Estepona. And thats not all. Then Lime, Karp, and Joj are going to take the train down Saturday morning and meet us at the hotel for a night of fun. Monica, the bestest of the besties and Amy-the-pretty-pony are going to stay until Monday. We kinda have this whole plan down to a T, we will just have to cross our t's and hope to die and stick a needle in our, that it all works out. The Gorilla and I hoped aboard the 8:15 train to Bologna, and then took the bus to the airport. We had a lay over in Madrid, and we were so hungry, hungry enough to eat a sandwich comprised of bread, potatoes and eggs. Normally I wouldn't dare touch a thing like that but our other options were McFlurries, or 1 euro sandwiches that looked like they had come from a space ship, and or from the same place twinkies and zebra cakes are made and we didn't want to die. We finally got into Malaga but then had to wait two hours for the bus because we were told that the buses were off schedule because it was a holiday, "Holiday Andalucia" to be exact. But we secretly knew this was going to happen to us because we checked the bus schedule before we left and because our visit is considered "off season" and or the "winter months" the buses do not run at their regular times. Infatuated with the people at the airport the Gorilla and I sucked on M and M's, Maltese's and Starbursts ( I hate to admit...I am just a fat kid in a little suit these days) and we watched the world go round and round. We secretly wanted to buy trashy magazines from the newspaper stand but it cost three euros so instead we ate candy. Duh naturally. We finally got on the bus and finally got Marbella and then finally took a cab from Marbella to our hostel. We finally arrived at Hostal Berlin around 8:00. Confusing, I know, that a hostal in Spain would be called Berlin, but indeed that was the name (hostel spelled with an A..not a spelling mistake, only the truth). Interestingly enough, the hostel is owned by an Argentinean family. The cute little lady behind the counter (her name I can't remember possibly because she never gave it me) was just adorable. She showed us to our room and then gave us suggestions for dinner. We pretended to listen to her, because on the way to the hostel, we saw a chinese buffet for only 5 euro that was actually just down the street. Good Chinese food, come to think of it any Chinese food is difficult to find in Florence and were craving anything.
Again with this whole buffet thing, I should just start making a general rule for myself..NO BUFFETS, they always result in over indulgence. This place reminded me a bit like the buffet from Vegas Vacation, however the food was actually appetizing. They had these peanuts under a heat lamp, salted and crispy and de-licous. Dad you would of loved them. I ate so many, I actually turned into an elephant. Stuffed from eating the words most unhealthy food, the Gorilla and I, headed straight up stairs and went right to bed. Long day. Another attempt at Spain, here I come.


FEB 28th in the year of the thousands of two-ness and then add an eight to the end.

Ain't No Thang.

I never thought I would study the night before for 2 midterms and on top of that do eight study paintings in a hour and half. But miraculously I was able to get it done. If I had been at Michigan, I would have been preparing for my exams and projects two weeks in advance and probably would have had two panic attacks and two all nighters. In Italy, things like that are not acceptable and I am here for a cultural immersion, thus my actions here are acceptable because it is part of the culture (thats what I keep telling myself...Don't worry Linda J and My Dear Oma, both the Gorilla and I keeping up our studies!). But it wasn't just me who was laxed about them, you could tell all of my professors didn't really seem to care that that much either. I arrived promptly for my Art History exam at 9:30 am and my HP Dolby looking teacher couldn't find the midterm on her computer and she searched for 20 minutes to find the exam. I told her we could wait until we came back from break, but just as I said that she some how found it. She was about to start sweating her blue eye shadow off, because we were already 20 minutes into the class. I did a little over average job, possibly B work on it. Not too shabby. I found out that my "midterm" that I took in Italian class on Monday was actually the real midterm, however Lorenzo was not supposed to give it to us, and right before the exam, I discovered that I would be taking another exam. The real midterm this time. It was basically the exact same "midterm" that I took on Monday but the words were different and the order was mixed up. No biggie. Ain't No Thang. And some how, how? I am not so sure, but some how my painting teacher loved my paintings and I think my crit went really shwell. Shasty pants (now everyone in the house just calls her pants, even herself), the Gorilla and I headed down the street for an all you can eat buffet at El Parata for only 6 euro. I know I shouldn't be going to an all you can eat buffet before heading to Malaga Spain TOMORROW where I will be wearing a bathing suit on the beach (whether the weather permits me or not) but I was so hungry and I walk past this poor little restaurant every single day, I felt that it was my duty to stop in and try their delicious looking food. And indeed it was. My internet has not been working properly, thus this post will probably go up sometime next week when I am in Malaga because the computers at the art school are OH SO poopy. I figured out today that Malaga indeed is where we are flying into but the hostel that we are staying in Thursday and Friday night are in Marbella which is 45 minutes from the Malaga airport in which we are flying into and the hotel that we are staying in Saturday to Saturday is actually in Estepona which is 15 minutes from Marbella which makes it an hour and five minutes from Malaga. While I must admit that I haven't not done much planning for my spring break because a. I booked it before coming abroad (basically Ji and Ji are the worlds most generous people and instead of allowing themselves to take a vacation for a week, they have, why? I am not so sure, but some how have decided that instead of using their Disney Vacation Club points all for themselves, they are letting me use them) b. I booked my flight the second week I got here, and assumed that when I read on the hotels website that I should fly into Malaga, I just assumed that it was in Malaga. I have learned that making assumptions is not always good, actually it is really bad, so today, the day before leaving for my week long spring break, I thought it might be a good idea to not make those assumptions and do a little research as to how I was going to get to the hostel in Marbella and then get to the Hotel in Estepona. I did all of my research, printed out my flight itinerary, jotted down a few phone numbers just to be safe, and then headed over to Erica's and Sara's to say hello to D-Len. Unfortunately, he had more important things to do like go out, so we were only able to chit chat for negative five seconds. Sara decided it would be cool to dance like a freak, Sara my love, sometimes it is cool to dance like a freak but most of the time it just isn't. Love you anyway! Came home from the Cavour kids apartment and packed up for my big spring break. The Gorilla and I were going to share a bag but by the time I came home the Gorilla had already pack her Gorilla bag and because she is a Gorilla, her clothes are rather Gorilla-ish and her bag was filled to the top. I didn't bring a small carry-on-roller-bag, and thought because I am going away for the week and because I am actually taking a legit airline this time, I might as well fill-er-up and I decided to pack the big relish hot dog duffel bag on wheels (its like an Oscar Meyer Weiner truck, just green). Pants (that being Shastypants) gave me my nightly entertainment, told stories, and asked for some butt stories from A and E. Big day tomorrow. Train to Bologna, Bus to Airport, Flight to Madrid, flight from Madrid to Malaga, Malaga Airport to the Marbella bus station, Marbella bus station to cab, cab to hostel. All of my bags are packed and I am ready to go. "I am standing here out side your door I HATE TO WAKE YOU UP TO SAY GOODBYE BECAUSE I AM LEAVING ON A JET PLANE, DON"T KNOW WHEN I WILL BE BACK AGAIN"...err sorry for the sudden burst to sing and then type while I am singing...it won't happen again!

FEB. 27 2008-the post came from that date.