A Pleasant Surprise

I am usually one to hope for the best and expect the worst. Not in any extremely negative way...I would just say I'm optimistically cautious. So, naturally, I was needlessly worried about having given myself enough time to have my passport renewed. The travel.state.gov site told me that the current processing time for renewing a passport was 4-6 weeks, and I was cutting it kinda close by sending in my renewal application about 9 weeks before my trip.

Of course there was also the alarming notion that I messed up my application. I had all but convinced myself I had not followed the strict guidelines correctly, and would surely be receiving notification of my failure any day- to make my renewal deadline that much shorter i.e., even more nerve racking. I obsessively checked the passport site to see the status of my renewal, and was always met with the same vague, not so informative or reassuring message: "processing". So, I called the number listed on the passport site to speak to a real, live person. Surely a real, live person would be able to elaborate even just a little bit more on the status of my passport, right? Wrong. I was informed that I would have to send a hand written letter with my questions to get any specific answers. Ugh.

Welp, two weeks after I had sent in my passport renewal application I got a text from Lenny saying I had received official government mail. I knew it. I screwed up. The only good thing is that it was only two weeks in. I texted Lenny back that I was probably denied my passport, and could he please open up the envelope and tell me what it was? A moment later his reply was "hint: the pic is cute!"

I had been so resigned to the fact that I was going to be denied, that I didn't even entertain the idea that I would receive my passport so soon! It hadn't even been a full two weeks, let alone two business weeks, yet when I opened the envelope there it was- my new passport, in all it's official government document glory. Looking just as important and official as ever. Crises averted. I can follow directions after all! I can now rest easy knowing I can officially travel to my foreign destinations. It was a good day.

Come on with the rain, I've a smile on my face...

Just a little something that popped into my head...

My best friend Becky was in Orlando this past weekend. Now, Orlando isn't exactly next door. It's actually about 3 hours away from where I live. However, when the distance between you and your best friend is about 1,500 miles away and you only get to see each other every 6 months or so, you go out of your way to meet up no matter what. Even if it's only for a few hours.

Since Becky was staying smack dab in the middle of theme park paradise, we had many choices for fun places to go. We narrowed those places down to two Disney theme parks; Epcot or Hollywood Studios- (Which I will always call "MGM", just like I never stopped calling the Boston Garden "The Garden")We finally decided on MGM...errr... Hollywood Studios.

I recommend going to places like Disney with your best friend. I mean, if you already have a blast in regular, humdrum, every day life, then naturally when going to one of the happiest places on Earth, your fun increases ten fold. Add in the love of taking billions of pics, most which include cheesy poses, and/or taking the time to try some trick photography, and you are beyond being in your element. But now I am rambling, so I digress....

While on a beer break somewhere between seeing "The Voyage of the Little Mermaid" and the "Honey I Shrunk the Kids" play area, Becky and I studied our map of the park- scouring for attractions that we wanted to see. Right away my eyes fell on "The Great Movie Ride"- a ride that whisked you through the most memorable moments of many great films throughout the years. That obviously had my name all over it, and was targeted as our next ride to go on.

Like all attractions in Disney parks, we had a bit of a line to wait in before getting on the ride. Luckily, while you wait they pacify you by playing the old movie trailers of all the movies that are highlighted on the ride. One of the movies being "Singin' in the Rain". One of my all time favorites. Even just watching the trailer filled me with the kind of happiness that is so warm and comfortable- so familiar it brings a tear to your eyes. That wonderful feeling...just from the trailer!

So tonight, after the Patriots game (Super Bowl bound yahoooo!!!!!) I went to good ole' youtube and looked up probably one of the most famous scenes in cinematic history- the singin' in the rain scene. Pure euphoria. I really don't think there is any movie that can fill me with the absolute childlike joy that the singin' in the rain scene does. Maybe, and this is a big maybe, The Sound of Music comes close.

Anyway, after I got my fill of happiness and my guaranteed teary eyes, I got to thinking...Where is that magic in cinema now? I know there have been some amazing movies in recent time, but there really was something special, something elusive, something that can never be replicated again about that specific period. Was it the film in place of the exponentially expanding video technology of today? The Technicolor? The black and white? The music? The dancing? The talent? Probably all of it. It is bittersweet that the enchantment in a film like Singin' in the Rain will probably never be duplicated again. It makes me feel kinda sad that I was not around to take part in the romance of living in that time, though I am grateful to be able to watch these great films and feel a small part of it. Maybe though, if things were as magical now in movies as then...we wouldn't be able to appreciate those wonderful moments as much. Or maybe, 60 years from now, people will be feeling the same way I am about a movie like Chicago or Titanic and lamenting the fact that they were not around to live in such a time. But at this moment, after watching that beautiful and genuinely genius singing and dancing in the rain...I'm quite sure that is not going to be the case. Hollywood's "Golden Age" was called the golden age for a reason. I'm just happy we have some kind of access to that glorious, and wonderful space in time.

Thoughts About Amsterdam

Now I know I am officially old. Everytime someone finds out that one of the countries I am visiting will be Holland...more specifically that one of my main stops in Holland will be Amsterdam, the first thing they inquire about is if I plan on smoking weed, since it is legal to smoke in the coffee shops and all. My lame answer? "I don't know...maybe."

Young Jeanine wants to kick my ass. Who would go to Amsterdam without the number one intention of smoking it up? Old, fuddy duddy, post 20's Jeanine, I guess. I am much more interested in the architecture, the history, the culture, the food. I am very curious to try some Indonesian cuisine. I am also making it a point to try "Stroopwafels" which is supposedly two very thin waffle like layers stuck together with some super delicious, really bad for you, sugary sweet gooey goodness. That is at the top of my "food I need to try there" list.

I also love the fact that Amsterdam is similar to Venice- my favorite city in the world. I am eager to see if it can even remotely rival the charm of the amazingly beautiful "Queen of the Adriatic", but I seriously doubt it.
You know, now that I think about it, I also have no desire to wander into the red light district. At all. It kind of scares me actually!But I digress...More than just Amsterdam, I can't wait to see the windmills and the country side and hopefully...the tulips! And I am totally planning on buying some wooden shoes. I have wanted a pair since I was a toddler and watched Shirley Temple clog dance her little child star ass off in the movie "Heidi."

So there are my thoughts on visiting Holland. If I smoke, I smoke. (It is not even really, really legal there...there are some very strange laws regarding the smoking and distribution of marijuana.) If I don't smoke, it is no big deal. I am more interested in the country itself.
 Don't even get me started on how much I want to see and do and taste in France...and Belgium! This should certainly be an amazing trip.

Another Travel Adventure Looming

So, I am very excited. I am going to be traveling out of the country again- Holland, Belgium, and France! Everything is booked, everything is set. In some ways I don't think it has really set in yet that I am going to be embarking on another adventure into foreign lands. Maybe it's just too far away at the moment, and seems like a distant, hazy plan. That must be it.

As it turns out, my passport expired this month - January 2012. Getting a new passport picture has already been an adventure. I figured I would just go to Walgreens, as I knew that they took passport photos and that it was much more convenient for me to get to than anywhere else. FAIL. It took 4 people and about 45 minutes to figure out how to take a picture with the right dimensions and print it out. At one point I was helping them navigate their own system, but unfortunately they still could not grasp what they were doing. They took my picture about 5 times until finally a manager (that I had asked for from the very start) came up and finished the transaction in probably under 30 seconds. Gotta love incompetence.

Anyway, I can't wait to add my stories on here- and I again feel so fortunate to have the opportunity to see all these amazing places, and experience all these different cultures. I love adventures!!!!

Simply Richard

*I wish I could remember the rest of this story..this is a draft that I was writing a few years ago, so I figured I would post it, even though it is not even near complete, and I can't recall the details as precisely as I could have back then, so I dare not try and finish it. For what it is, though, it's funny.*

I know I have led a very interesting and action packed life thus far, peppered with a colorful cast of characters along the way. I realize that I tend to attract many adventures and lots of..."unique" people. I was once told by a friend;

"As far as crazy people go, you are like the flame and they are the moth - I have never seen anything like it, weird people just gravitate toward you!"

It's a very true statement, and honestly, I would have it no other way (as long as they aren't violent, or dangerously crazy people..which none have been to date)


So, let me get on with my point to all of this....which is that after this weekend, I don't think anyone can ever surprise or shock me again...I don't think I'll ever quite be the same. After all, this was the weekend I met Richard.

Let me elaborate; Lenny, Steve and I were invited to have dinner at an acquaintance of Lenny's. His name is Ron.
Ron is a character himself. A rather jovial fellow in his mid 40's, who it seems has had a bit of a wild past. He since has "grown up" as he puts it. He has settled down and appears to have found strength in being an avid Christian. He married a sweet little Brazilian lady named Elsa who also has the same religious zeal as himself. They reside a few towns over from us in a cute little home that is also occupied by Elsa's daughter Isabella....and the aforementioned Richard.

None of us had the slightest clue what this evening would entail. We certainly weren't warned about Richard (which I think makes it all the better actually) and went into this whole evening rather blindly.

So upon arrival at Ron's house, Lenny, Steve and I stood in the hallway of his home saying our hello's to his wife and being introduced to Isabella, Elsa's daughter - just then a rather large man emerged from another room and in a booming voice he exclaimed;

"HEY!!! I THOUGHT I HEARD A BUNCH OF PEOPLE OUT HERE...OF COURSE I HAD TO COME OUT AND SEE WHAT WAS GOING ON!"

His movements were erratic and jerky, he was wide-eyed and seemed rather pleasant. "Maybe he just has a lack of volume control"  I thought at first.

He discovered that we were from Boston right off the bat and, as he hailed from Brooklyn, a friendly rivaled raucous ensued....complete with him shouting the very cliche'd "PAAHHHK THA CAAAHHHH IN HAAAAAAVID YAAAHHHHHD" at us.
He then proceeded to the living room where he sat down on the couch and cracked open a can of cheese wiz.
As we got a tour of the house he would intermittently hear random shouting from him emanating from the living room. Usually in the form of swears.

Eventually we all migrated over to the living room. Richard sat now with TWO cans of Cheese Wiz on either side of him and a sleeve of crackers. He put on the UFC fights and seemed very content. Somehow we all got engaged in a discussion

* I am adding what I remember from that night. Richard told us that had been in and out of jail for years. He was a notorious thief, as well as a tough guy..and he had been through it all and done every drug imaginable..  Apparently if he was arrested one more time he would be sentenced to life in prison.
He told us he had been heading down the wrong path until one day he saw God. Literally talked with him, interacted with him, felt him... and from then on, he was a changed man. Ron, an old friend of his, took him into his home, and he was given a new chance at living an honest life. He said he was writing a book titled; "Simply Richard". I would definitely buy it if it ever comes out. That's all I can remember....though I will never, ever forget Richard. How could I?

Italy

I find I have been pretty fortunate as far as traveling and sight-seeing goes. I have been all over my own country, the good ole' U.S.A.-  from New England down to the Florida Keys, Texas all the way over to California. I have had "What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas" moments in...you guessed it, Las Vegas. I have been on a cruise to the most beautiful and luxurious areas of Mexico; Puerta Vallarta, Mazatlan, and Cabo San Lucas. And I have been to Italy and Sicily a total of three times since I was twelve years old.

That first trip to Italy was in February 1994 (at age 12) and it was wonderful. I remember how much I enjoyed the plane ride on Alitalia..I had my walkman and my headphones and the flight flew by...no pun intended. Even the airplane food was delicious on this airline, who would have thought?
We arrived in Rome first. We stayed there for a week, visiting all the places one must visit when in Rome as well as right outside of Rome, such as Pompeii and Naples. I remember my Dad arranging a horse and carriage ride around Rome, telling me not to speak because the carriage driver found out we were from America he would jack the price up.I kept my mouth shut, and my Dad worked his bartering magic. As we rode through Rome in this horse drawn carriage I remember all the Asian people taking pictures of us as we rode by, literally every time we stopped at a traffic light they would flock to the carriage and take pics of us as if we were famous. My Father and I started cracking up laughing at the silly-ness of it all. I also remember seeing posters with Nirvana's "In Utero" album cover art plastered about Rome- the posters were promoting a show they were playing while we were there. I recall asking my Dad if we could PLEASE, PLEASE go to that show, and he refused. That same show was the now famous live release. It was also two months before Kurt Cobain was to take his own life. In retrospect I really wish I had tried harder at persuading my Father to take me, even though he would have been mortified, I'm quite sure. His musical taste was more along the lines of Dean Martin, Englebert Humperdinck, and Anne Murray...Something tells me he wouldn't have had a particularly nice time.

The next week we took a quick jump over to Sicily, where all of my of Father's family reside. I precisely remember both visually and olfactory wise, that drive into his hometown of Gela. It was a gorgeous ride into town...rows upon rows of blossoming orange trees whispering their enchanting perfume all along the little country side road, it was such a delicious, almost intoxicating fragrance that I'm sure I'll never forget.
Gela is an ancient seaside city that time has forgot, or so it seems. Sure there were "disco techs" and modern conveniences about, but for the most part, it looked as I'm sure it must have looked for ages- and the effect was quite charming. My large Sicilian family was as welcoming and friendly and uninhibited as if they had known me my entire life, which both surprised and comforted me, I had a great time making friends with my many aunts and uncles and visiting a never ending parade of cousins. Also, I was fortunate enough to meet my Grandmother, whom was in her 90's and passed away shortly after my visit. My first trip to Italy was fantastic, and luckily it wouldn't be much longer until I visited once more.

My next trip at age 14 would be only to Sicily, and what's more? I was going ALONE! At least for the first two weeks. I was to spend one month in Sicily all together. Two weeks in Gela with my family, and two weeks near Palermo with very close friends of the family who originally had hailed from that area. It was a fun trip. I was forced to learn the language, as my family had very limited knowledge of English, and I really didn't expect them to speak English to me anyway, since I was in their country. I did relatively well, though I understood Italian much better than I spoke it.
I remember my girl cousins were absolutely boy crazy and we went down to the beach every evening to hang out with their many guy friends and listen to music that a street-side DJ would be blaring. I remember seeing the Greek ruins in Agrigento with my older cousins and riding around on vespas through hectic city roads. I thoroughly enjoyed my time in Gela with my family.

Once I arrived on the other side of Sicily to be with my "other family" I remember there being a breath taking view from the back balcony of the house over looking the ocean. I made it a point to always be out there by sunset, as the sunsets there were the most beautiful I had ever seen. I remember having a crush on the very cute boy that lived next door - Lorenzo, watching him come and go on his vespa, always waiting to get a good look at him. Then there was a trip to a little island called Favignana that had a gorgeous beach. We rented a four person bicycle type contraption- it sat two side by side up front, and two side by side in the back, and everyone pedaled to get around the small island. We also visited the town of Erice, a beautiful little city on top of a mountain (mount Erice) It was as if the city lived among the clouds it was so high up, and it had a great view of the ocean and coastline from way up there.

Then there was the trip to the Sicilian country side. Nina (whom is more like an aunt to me than just a close family friend) had taken me out there to visit with her father who owned a farm, and it was in the middle of nowhere, just a beautiful old farm in the heart of the country.Oddly enough, I vividly remember laying on the bed in one of the bedrooms listening to Sgt Pepper's in it's entirety, as I was just starting my real love affair with the Beatles. A random but wonderful little memory to have...the memory of discovering a masterpiece such as Sgt. Pepper and to be able to recollect the magic and fascination and inspiration that went with it, is a treasure.
The most amazing part of being out there in the country for me was the stars at night. So far away was this farm from civilization, and so far removed was it from any kind of unnatural light, that the stars showed up in the dark night sky so much more brilliantly than I had ever been able to see them in America. I would gaze up for minutes on end as if I were in a trance, spellbound from the beauty and the idea of galaxies far, far away. I remember even being able to see the milky way in it's filmy, fog like beauty and just being truly amazed and awestruck. It was very sad to leave Sicily after such magical fun-filled month, and it was bitter sweet coming home to America.

The space between my last trip and my next trip to Italy was much longer- six years. I was twenty, and I was taking a tour of Italy with my father and his girlfriend- Terry. The trip was at the end of March and we would be spending our Easter Sunday there. I was very excited to be able to see so much of Italy on this trip.
The tour would include all the hotels we stayed at and dinner every night, as well as a tour guide, who spoke English, as everyone on the tour was American. (I must say though, it was very nice to have had my Dad there to translate and speak Italian in those times that we were on our own.)The tour started in Venice and worked its way down to Rome and beyond. My Father and Terry would be going on to Sicily, but I had to return home as my job would not allow me any more time off.

So, once again I found myself on Alitalia, flying into the closest airport to Venice. I remember being able to see the "floating city" from the plane with all it's little little waterways and canals. In my mind, Venice had always been such a romantic and mystical place, and I could hardly believe I was about to actually see it, I remember feeling that wonderful rush of excitement and adrenaline upon looking at it from the plane.
From the airport we found our tour guide and waited for the rest of our group to be accounted for. When everyone had arrived we took a large boat to Venice. Pulling into the city of water was more exciting than watching it from the plane, as I looked about me I knew I was in love with this place already. We pulled up to our hotel and filed off the boat in an orderly fashion. Our hotel was *gorgeous* just as fancy as anything I could ever conjure up in my mind. I have always been a fan of the "French Provincial" cream and gold style accents and furniture, and there were examples of this all over the lobby of the hotel. In the lobby there also hung a giant, ornate tapestry depicting an old Italian country scene with country folk dancing and feasting as only the Italians can do! It was exquisite.

Our hotel room was quaint, a very cheery yellow room with two comfortable beds and a window that opened up to look down upon the main street of Venice - yes, an actual street, not a main waterway. It was fantastic. I was falling more and more in love with Venice by the minute, and I had only just arrived there!
After we had taken a quick nap we were able to explore a bit. We walked down the main street and looked at all the cute little shops and restaurants that lined it. We came upon the main water way at some point in our wandering and it looked just as I had imagined...Romantic and captivating, so old and antique- it looked just as it had looked hundreds and hundreds of years ago, and there I was, standing in the same spot as so many before me have for ages and ages, gazing dreamily out to this watery passage watching the world go by.

We returned to the hotel for an authentic Venetian dinner. Northern Italian cuisine is much richer and creamier, taking more from it's neighboring countries of Austria and Switzerland than anywhere else, and it was all divine. I had been on the "no carbs" kick up until this trip, and needless to say, that all went out the window as soon as this glorious meal was presented to me.

That night we went exploring once more, roaming the streets of Venice with the enthusiasm only a tourist could have. I bought a delicate and whimsical Venetian mask at a tiny little shop that I still cherish to this day. It took me a while to find just the right one - as they were all so special, but this one had musical notes in the little jester collar it wore, and that obviously was right up my alley.
As we sauntered past an outside restaurant we were stopped by a handsome young waiter. He started speaking to my Father- in Italian of course. It had been a long time since I had spoken Italian on a regular basis, and I could not interpret  what was being said. Every so often the waiter would turn to look at me and smile, and I having not a clue what was going on, would smile back. Finally, my Dad with a laugh was done speaking to this young fellow and he hurried us away. Naturally I was beyond curious as to what had just taken place. My Father told me that the waiter had expressed to him how beautiful he thought I was and asked him if he could take me out. My Father refused, but the waiter was persistent. Finally my Father had told him that it was wise not to mess with a Sicilian Father, and the waiter realized it was futile to try and persuade him any further.

The next day we explored as much of Venice as we could- with our tour guide. She was wonderful and very knowledgeable and led us down side streets and places I'm sure not many tourists would know about on their own. At some point we arrived at Saint Mark's Square, I and a friend I had made on the tour- a nice older lady there with her husband, had purchased some bird seed and before we knew it we had the famous pigeons of St Mark's fluttering around us and landing on us- they were everywhere, and I was laughing my head off at the spectacle of it all. After that excitement, we all went through Doge's palace, and saw the "bridge of sighs" where prisoners were said to have had their last look at Venice, and their freedom... and in realizing that was their last glimpse of both, had breathed a heavy sigh of regret as they were led to prison.
Finally, we took a lovely ride through the main water way of Venice in an authentic Gondola which was as I had always dreamed it would be. Venice had secured it's place in my heart as my favorite city ever. I was sad to leave it, but it was still only the beginning of the trip.

We all piled into a tour bus and set out for our next destination; Florence. We stopped at a small and interesting town called Padua on the way. We looked around a very old church and were told of the history of Padua; Padua is one of the main settings in Shakespeare's The Taming of the Shrew.

Soon we reached the outskirts of Firenze and were taken to a hill overlooking all of Florence for a panoramic picture opportunity. It was quite a view. The Duomo rose majestically out of the landscape- a giant among all the little red roofed buildings below it. To the left could be seen the "Ponte Vecchio" A little bridge that supported a street where the all best deals on fine Italian gold could be found. From this hill, Florence was so picturesque and lovely and calm...but once inside the city it was anything BUT calm! As crowded as could be we shuffled among the many, many tourists and locals who were heading every which way in this giant city, I am not a fan of crowds so this was not entirely pleasant for me. But all was forgotten when we reached the museum that held "The David" He was enormous. Much bigger than I would have ever supposed he was from pictures. It was an honor to be standing so near to such an iconic work of art, and I was sad we were not allowed to take pictures. I did however, take a picture of Michael Angelo's tomb when we visited The Basilica di Santa Croce, where Galileo Galilei's tomb also was.
Next we were taken to the Piazza in Florence, and we waited in a line around the block to go into the Duomo. The Duomo is really "The Basilica di Santa Maria del Fiore" and was completed in the 15th century. It had beautiful artwork inside, as all of the churches and cathedrals seem to have in Italy. At some point we were taken to a little boutique and they picked me to model a cute blue suede jacket, it was nice, but not quite my style. We had a lunch outside in the square and then had free time to explore. We went to the aforementioned Ponte Vecchio and I got some gorgeous jewelry, my favorite was an elegant gold ring with a princess cut topaz. (my birthstone)

Now, Florence is also known for it's luxurious leather and the trip would not have been complete without purchasing SOMETHING that was a fine leather good while visiting. We entered into a boutique on a side street, and Terry and I were having a great time trying on different jackets. As Terry was settling on one she liked I had tried on a jacket made of the softest, smoothest suede I had ever felt, it was a rich reddish brown color with a kind of wool trim and lining, it fit me perfectly. As I was admiring the jacket in the mirror, the store owner came up to me and said in broken English that the jacket fit me perfect...it looked as if it belonged to me and I must have it...for FREE! He insisted on giving it to me. I always get kind of shy and bashful when things like this happen, and I am not one to ever try to take advantage of another so I tried to decline the offer, but the owner was adamant about me taking this gorgeous jacket, and so in the end, I did. To this day I have worn the jacket only a couple times...so nervous am I to harm the soft, soft suede. That was the last fond memory I have of my stay in Firenze.

Italy Continued

Next we were off to the Tuscan country side to dine in the very heart of Tuscany. So gorgeous and lush is that landscape, I just drank it all in from my little window seat on the bus, contentedly listening to my Tori Amos "To Venus and Back" while watching the sweeping hillsides and cypress trees roll past.. We were taken to a FEAST of the grandest proportions in Tuscany, they served us these delightful blue alcoholic drinks on the veranda that they made on the premises. They would not sell it though, much to our chagrin. The drinks were delicious and a perfect palette cleanser. They showed us to our dining room and brought in course after course of delicious farm fresh cuisine, and to top it all off they had an accordion player walking around and singing to all of us. It was a memorable night.

If my memory serves me correctly, we next were en route to Pisa. Pisa was a relatively quick stop...besides the actual leaning tower itself, the area was nothing like I pictured it. I never realized there were other buildings in and around the structure itself, like the Piazza del Duomo. And there was one long line of salesmen selling cart after cart of tourist-y trinkets and knick knacks leading up to the tower itself. The leaning tower looks exactly like the pictures have always shown, and it was very fun to be able to see it in person.

We arrived at Siena on a perfect day. I remember the sky was blue, blue, blue, and the town was high up on a hill. We saw a church that had some every creepy stone faces of past priests or Pope's or high holy men that went around the border inside the church. In the center of town was a giant sloping "race track" this was because twice a year they fill the entire square with dirt and have horse races called "The Palio di Siena" these races date back to medieval times.

The famous little town of Assisi was the next stop and it could be seen nestled humbly on a hill. On this day a great swirl of clouds painted the sky in the most artistic of ways, I felt that if I blocked out the cars and people around me and stared at the little village in the distance, I could actually imagine myself being whisked away to that very time that Saint Francis of Assisi lived.
Once we made our ascent into Assisi we had to trek a little higher to get to the Basilica of San Francesco d'Assisi. Assisi is (obviously) the birthplace and burial place of Saint Francis, whom started the Fransican order. The church was built in the 13th century and holds a very beautiful and ornate stained glass "rose window" that has been called "the eye of the most beautiful church in the world".

Finally, the last stop on our tour was Rome. The eternal city. I was excited to be back, though I knew I would, having thrown my coin into Trevi Fountain 8 years prior. That first night in Rome we were taken to a special dinner and show. There was a singer performing classic Italian standards and such. Apparently, he had taken a fancy to me and another girl on our tour. We were told that he "was in love with us" and before I knew it he was taking me from my seat and serenading me in front of a packed house. I was blushing and nervous, but tried to play along as best I could - in the end, people thought I was part of the act! It was certainly an entertaining moment.
That night we walked around Rome and headed to the Trevi Fountain. I remember the smell of roasting chestnuts that are sold by street vendors wafting though the streets- my Father loves those, and he made sure to get some. When we got to the fountain it was still crowded, even though it was later at night. We started taking pictures in front of the fountain when we were approached by two young men - they were very polite and very cordial and they took our picture for us, but they had a request as payment for doing so- they said that they wanted to come to America and visit ME! My Father laughed and they continued to try and "pick me up". Needless to say, they did not get the go ahead from my Dad (or me) to take me out.

The last couple days were over the Easter holiday. The next to last morning I woke up feeling like death. Stuffy, congested, groggy...miserable. But I forced myself to see the sites, I shuffled through the Roman Forums...sniffled through the Colosseum, took a picture with some Colosseum gladiators...and barely made it back to my hotel room by the afternoon. There was no way I could go on, and there was no relief for me. Since it was Easter Monday and all the stores were closed I could not procure any decongestant or fever reducer, cough drops, Tylenol- nothing. I was forced to spend my last afternoon in Rome sleeping, as my Father and Terry went to see the Vatican. Thank goodness I had been to see it years before. Thank goodness I had looked up at the Sistine Chapel with my own eyes and wandered the halls of the Vatican, stood solemnly staring at "La Pieta" and climbing higher and higher to the top of the dome at the Vatican to overlook all of Rome. If I had never done these things, I would have regretted staying in my hotel, I'm sure. But this was not the case, so my misery was spent with some kind of comfort beneath the covers with a pounding headache, sore throat and blocked ears.

The next day I was to take a plane back to America by myself, and my father and his girlfriend were going ahead to Sicily. That plane ride was the most torturous, awful eight hours I have ever endured. I am sure that my personal hell would be forever descending on a plane with a sinus infection...no end ever in sight. I was convinced my eyeballs were going to explode out of my head- the pressure was so intense. Every time I swallowed my ears popped painfully. My throat was on fire..it was the longest ride of my life. The half hour descension into Logan airport was as mentioned, my own personal hell. At some point I swallowed and went deaf in one ear. I didn't know how much more I could take until finally, we touched down. America. Boston. Get me off this wretched plane! I rushed through the terminal in a fog, waited in agony to get my luggage and meet up with my sister-in-law and her older brother, Vinny.  Vinny had recently broken his collar bone in a four wheeling accident and tried his best to keep up with me as I plowed full speed out of the place..though it was hard for him with a double arm cast on. (he is the most accident prone person I have ever known)
I didn't hear out of my left ear until hours later...when it burst in the most terrible, agonizing fashion, I thought for a moment my whole eardrum was blown out! I was diagnosed with a double ear infection, sinus infection, and sore throat, however it was a small price to pay for such an amazing trip.

There is still so much of the world I want to travel, so much I want to see, and I am extremely grateful for everything I have experienced so far. Yet...I always crave to return to Italy. And something tells me that I will be back again someday.