My Best Skill

So I have learned that my best skill, in the entire world, is the art of procrastination.  My lack of posts in several months is a testament to this skill.  It does me no good, but I continue to master it.  I have a comic from a few months ago I need to finish and then I'll put it up.  Promise!

Instead of leaving you with that totally boring and unnecessary bit above as my return to blogging, I will tell you my latest misadventure in life...

About 2 weeks ago I was walking home from the train station, as I'm prone to do as a pedestrian, when some young guy ran up and tried to snatch my purse!  Now, if you know me, you know I am two things, poor and bad ass.  Combine those with a direct attack on my persons, and you have yourself quite a story.  

When this guy tried to yank my bag and yelled, "Give it to me" I responded with a frightened, yet heartfelt "No!"  He then proceeded to punch me in the head and push me to the ground.  No worries though, he punched like a girl.  As I hit the ground though, I regained my abilities of action.  I tried to kick him in the nuts, a move I find unacceptable except in cases like these, but missed kicking his thigh instead.  So I tried to kick him in the knee this time, all the while he is punching me, then I pepper sprayed his dumb ass!  He fell into a bush and I ran home.  

I eventually called the police and spent a good chunk of time crying from shock and fear.  But every cop I talked to that night (and I talked to like seven) said the same thing to me, "It must have felt good to spray him."  

They are correct.

Six Weeks Later

So it has been six weeks since I left Italy and I still haven't written anything, so I figured it's about time I did.  I've attempted several times, but just couldn't think of what to say.  Allora, I will write a list because that's what I do best.  

I was sad to go and happy to be leaving.

I didn't improve my Italian skills enough.

Baby-sitting Tori was one of my favorite things about being there.  

Fiats are awesome.

I need to move out of America for an extended period of time.

I prefer life without a microwave.

I never want to go four months with out theatre again.

Brandon is an even better boyfriend then I thought, and I already had a high opinion of him.

Hazelnut and Pistachio are my favorite gelati.

Nothing depressed me more than life without my cat.

Apparently, the two movies I can't live without are The Big Lebowski and The AristoCats.

I never cooked better food than when I was in Italy.

I'm so much more antisocial then I like to pretend.

Drunk Sunday was one of the highlights of time abroad.

The only thing better then The Fresh Prince theme song is the Italian version.  

I love kebabs and falafels, even if I can't spell them.

I am like 2 steps away from being a cat lady.

Now that I've done this I can start posting new things.  It just didn't feel right before.

Just Not Enough Sex, Drugs, or Rock and Roll

I spent the weekend in Amsterdam...

 

This is the second time I've been there, and I really like the city.  It's a ton of fun and offers lots of sights to see.  Sadly this trip was not as fun as the last one, but I was with Brandon, my boyfriend and we stayed in a four star hotel.  So as any person can imagine, staying in an 18 person co-ed hostel is a bit of a step down, but I did not care...until I realized I was the only female in the packed room.  Needless to say, I was paranoid out of my mind that some man would try to crawl in bed with me!  I was tempted into asking Peter, my travel buddy to sleep in my bed to protect.  No worries though, I slept safely alone.

 As I have said, I traveled to Amsterdam with my friend Peter.  And let me just tell everyone never to go Amsterdam with someone of the opposite sex unless you are dating or they are gay.  Because I have never felt more awkward than I did walking through the red light district.  Don't be misled here, I thought the whole thing was funny and a little sad (because I can't imagine what would make anyone do that as a profession) but I was enjoying it for what it was.  Peter on the other hand was clearly so uncomfortable with me being there he hardly glanced at any of the woman!  Not that I was staring, but that was part of the fun I thought.  There are just too many things that he would have enjoyed so much more if I was a man.  

I would also like to let the world know, I can know spell appendicitis perfectly and without thought.  Why?  Because Peter was convinced he was dying of it the entire weekend.  He actually wanted to go to the hospital Saturday night, but I was having no part of that sort of shenanigans man.  Instead, I made him just go to bed and deal with it.  After returning to Florence, whining for a day, and a trip to the hospital, he is fine.  Just a hypochondriac.  And sad to say, after separating myself from the entire experience and no longer trying to make the best of it, it was probably one of the worst trips I've taken.  I did go to the Van Gough museum, chill out, take a break from life, and have some really cool conversations though.  And all of these were awesome and just what I needed.  I just hope if I ever go back to Amsterdam, it is with my parents and siblings, because that would be a really fucking good time.

Oh Venice

So it took me way to long to post this, but what can you do?  

My Love Came to Italy!