This is possibly my favorite picture anyone's taken of me, ever. Yesterday there were a couple of kids playing and running after the pigeons in Piazza San Marco, but Bethany couldn't grab them with her camera because they kept stopping. So I did a silly dance and a joyful,glorious I AM WHERE I AM run. I ran in circles. I flopped around. I danced with my umbrella. I was so happy. (Pretty much, I'm lucky enough that I'm happy most places. But in Venice? It's ridiculous.)
And I'm so sorry, but this is merely a drive-by placeholder post from Venice, where I'm holed up with my sister Bethany in a warm and cozy apartment overlooking the stormy nighttime lagoon. All the time–and I mean ALL THE TIME–I have a running commentary inside my head of all the things I want to tell the blog. Like yesterday, when I was at the spa in the Lido (right?) and they gave me a disposable g-string to wear. And people, I could NOT tell which way it went on, and in my fear, I stepped on it and ripped it in half, which I thought was hilarious, and I was also glad the masseuse would never know, and then she flipped me onto my back and massaged mah belleh. In my years of getting massages as often as I can fit them into the budget, I've had many things massaged, but never my stomach, especially two days after having a 36-hour bout of the worst food poisoning of my life (thanks, hotel breakfast!). Apart from the strangeness of my belly-rub, and the hospital-issue paper g-string, it was a great massage! (Truthfully, it was heaven. The best massage I've ever had. Except maybe for Raul in Alameda, who is more pain than pleasure, but that's a whole 'nother rabbit hole.)
And that's how my brain runs. It's full of things to tell you.
But we've been running around, see. And by running around, I mean exactly the opposite. When we got to Rome, we did too much the first day. By conservative estimates, we walked somewhere between twelve and fifteen miles, which was too much, but it's what you do when you're freaking out about the amazing weather (sunny and cool) and the everything of it all. (Rome was the little mama's favorite city, and she especially loved the way the ancient abutted the brand-new. Bethany loves that too.) But since that day, and since I got a migraine (omg, I think I'm actually gluten-intolerant! Color me the last to know! Two pizzas in two days, and I was laid flat for half a day), Bethany and I have travelled this way: Where's the next place we'll get a caffelatte? or, if it's anytime after 11:31 a.m., Where's the next place we'll get a gelato/spritz?
In between drinks and dairy products, we Happen Upon Things. (Then, wonderfully, enough, Bethany goes home that night to the hotel/scary monastery/apartment and Googles everything and tells me what I saw.)
So now I have a HYOOGE list of things to tell you, but first I should tell you this:
1. If you like Italo-pop, buy Mike Patton's Mondo Cane album right NOW. It will freak you out with how amazing it is. Read about it here. (We found the CD in the Venice apartment tonight, put it in blindly, and proceeded to both start shaking our booties all over the tiled floors.)
2. If you'd like to see more photos of our trip before we get home, head over to Flickr, where I've been posting a few of my favorite snaps (I'm so pleased with my camera choices for this trip. I only brought two: my iPhone 4 and Bethany. One or the other is always ready to snap a pic. Her Flickr account is here).
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