just another passing fancy: August 2005

Tuesday, August 30, 2005

Happy Birthday, S. I love you. I miss you.

Tuesday, August 23, 2005

allow me just a moment...

there are these two postures in the primary series...a year ago, I was in awe of people who could do them. Today, I did them. And although I'm trying really hard to be humble...I'm going to take this moment, just a tiny bitty moment, to beam about it. But, to prevent my body from getting cocky, I ran for longer today and nearly died...Italy - next post. I promise, Nita.

Friday, August 19, 2005

props to arthur for this quiz

You scored as Hermione Granger. You're one intelligent witch, but you have a hard time believing it and require constant reassurance. You are a very supportive friend who would do anything and everything to help her friends out.

Hermione Granger

95%

Sirius Black

70%

Ron Weasley

65%

Remus Lupin

65%

Ginny Weasley

60%

Albus Dumbledore

55%

Harry Potter

50%

Severus Snape

50%

Lord Voldemort

45%

Draco Malfoy

40%

http://quizfarm.com/test.php?q_id=2338

Di Notte en Roma

I haven't changed my watch, and for once, I don't care what time it is. I'm going to leave the hotel, walk into the first restaurant I see and toast to this moment of freedom from...well, I guess it would be from myself. I breeze down the lobby in the manner of Audrey Hepburn - if I had been wearing a scarf, it would have been blowing past me - and continue my stride through the revolving doors...which forces me to halt and slooowwly motion my way through the rest of the way. I catch a glimpse of the cute front desk guy and he's watching me - why does he have to look so bloody smug? Without any further regard to him, I take in my surroundings with an air of anticipation of where I would eat tonight. There's a sign that says Ristorante, but I can't make out the rest...it says...Ristorante...Cinese. Huh...well...you know, if I had walked through the revolving door and didn't turn to the right...I would end up in front of...Sitar. Perfect.
Sitar is a quaint little east indian restaurant just across the street from my hotel on Via Cavour. You take a few steps downward towards the dining area, or you can sit upstairs on the two table patio. In the middle of the blank wall, there is a wooden sitar on display. The servers are all dressed in simple, but traditional clothing, and the owner is a very motherly little lady who kept encouraging me to eat more.
After paying the bill from a very ornate, mini silver chest, I walked up the stairs beside the restaurant, turned a corner and was greeted by the Colosseum. A lot of people seem to be content with recognising monuments for their grandeur through books and photographs, but the experience to touch, to feel and to smell, to imagine the centuries of history and culture and blood surrounding stacks of limestone and granite is incomparable. Seeing this, I realise that you should never fool yourself with just the idea. I walk round the whole of the Colosseo, and I catch a glimpse of an engravement and I lean in to make it out - Lynrd Skynrd. Maybe next time I won't be quite so...eager.
On the walk back to the hotel, I enjoy the cobblestone streets, while walking on flat pavement, and slurp the first gelato of my trip. It was a rich dark, chocolate that lovingly coats your tongue and smooths down your throat. These are the moments where you think, it's all vanity. I am eating this every single day. Twice. I've made a pack to boycott the elevator and only use the stairs in an attempt to balance my fitness level and my...eating level. By the 6th floor, I start to regret that second helping of butter chicken and the scoop of gelato. I walk back into my room, lacking a bit of the grace I possessed while leaving, and hear a faint accordion playing. All the windows that I've seen in Europe are the ones that allow you to lean out and shout a hello to passerbys. ( hey Arthur, do you remember when Stephen Kirkham threw water out of his window,in Nice, thinking that he would hit someone other than Mr.Jean Proulx?) I open the window, look down and see that across from Ristorante Cinese is a café and has currently employed an accordion player serenading couples dancing in the dark. I watch them for a little bit, feeling a little voyeuristic, while a stupid, silly grin spreads across my face. It truly is un bella notte.

Thursday, August 18, 2005

pictures

I don't have many pictures, as of yet, but once I get my act together and get my film developed, I'll post them with future blogs as the story progresses. For now, here are a few family pictures from the digital that I wanted to share. These are mainly for you, S. ^_^

There and back again

Travel writer, Bill Bryson's philosophy is - travelling, and life itself, is more fun if taken with a series of impulses. I chose to leave for Italy without any assumption or expectation and in return, I had a great ride. I finally arrived in Rome after a 9 hour plane ride, where I was stuck behind a wishy washy passenger that couldn't decide if he preferred his light on or off, his window up or down, his air low or high and - the one decision that affects me most: whether he liked his seat just a little bit back, or all the way. Incidentally, his final decision was to move it all the way back, which rendered me immobile and useless. After arriving in the Leonardo DaVinci airport, however, none of that mattered anymore. I was in Rome. After retrieving my luggage, I breezed out through the revolving doors feeling very continental with my sunglasses propped up in my hair ( ok,I made that part up) and got into the taxi. And there, in the taxi, is where I seriously thought I was going to die. Italian drivers pay no attention to anything happening on the road ahead of them, while driving at a speed of...well, quite frankly, I stopped checking after it hit 130. We careened through an alley the size of a high school hallway while another car in the opposite direction, was flying in the same alley and by some miracle unbeknownst to me, they avoided a disastrous crash. Could it be that they have car accident immunity because they're such an ancient holy city? Regardless, I stopped paying attention to what was happening on the road when I realised that the white markings that are meant to be lanes, were merely decorative. I listened to all the facts that the driver was telling me about the city, but I didn't hear. Everything seemed wonderful; I even loved his ability to maneuver around the city without incident. I was incredibly charmed by him...also touched and grateful that he didn't get us killed in a spontaneous, driver created traffic circle. I had my reservations (pun intended) about the hotel, because it was chosen by my dad, but promptly changed my mind after being greeted by the cute front desk guy. After stumbling through a mixture of Italian cum English for several minutes, he wryly tells me that he speaks English and could I please use the language that I have been given and stop abusing his? OK, he didn't say that. BUT, it was necessary that I stop speaking. I arrived in my room, took in my surroundings and collapsed on the bed while my eyes crashed shut.

just another passing fancy