that one time i lived in rome

Last summer I lived in Rome for 6 weeks; this summer I'm stuck at home and taking an LSAT class. First I wonder what I did wrong in a past life, to go from the most amazing summer ever to one where I sit in a class for 4.5 hours twice a week and cry look over logic games.

My roommate met me at the airport with a steak burrito (she's the best I swear!) in tow and asked me "Do you feel different?". I promptly responded and told her "Of course I do. My liver hurts like a bitch..." But I'm pretty sure that's not the answer she was looking for; then again if my liver ever put me out of commission she loses her favorite alcoholic. (Disregarding the trip to the emergency room...whoops)

Rome was amazing, the people were fanfuckingtastic, and despite eating my weight in gelato, pizza and pasta, I lost weight. It was a win-win situation, even if you factor in "sweating your taint off", but I think (thanks Google) only men have that. I think the only things I don't miss are sweating and the fear of being gypsie'd (I made my own verb! Suck it Rachael Ray).

Nothing really big happened in Rome. There weren't any moments that shook me to the core. No big spectacular earth shattering thing. But the experience was unforgettable. It's funny that I can't pinpoint one single event in Rome that was particularly phenomenal, but when I combine everything; it resulted in something bigger than anything I've ever experienced. But that could be attributed to me being a mere fetus at 20, and not having really lived very much.

I think Rome falls under the category of big occurrences. However it was one of those things where one particular moment didn't stand out, instead it was the overall experience that turned out to be an all consuming thing. It didn't feel big or serious at the time. I was merely living in the moment, especially those times we justhadtopeethisverysecond and peed outside... But looking back at the situation, that was it (well maybe not the drunken public urination). Simply living our daily lives was the big event in Rome.

The drunken walks stumbles home from Campo de Fiore, walking through the meandering alleys on the way to school, climbing the 5 flights of stairs(!!!), nearly getting taken at Mood (where American girls go to die or a brothel...not sure we got our free shots and ran out, hence why I'm still alive),, the Real Worldesque moment of walking in on someone naked and in the middle of sexytimes; all of these things seemed small and insignificant in the present, but they ended up making the experience (even in the constantly hungover state).

We were all just living. Even the mundane task of grocery shopping is now an event to me in hindsight. Maybe I'm putting Rome on a pedestal and maybe it wasn't the OMGAMAZING thing that I'm making it out to be (IT WAS), but it definitely changed me. It changed me in all the little ways that I didn't realize until someone pointed it out for me. Then again I don't notice very much, like when Alex dyed her hair orange by accident and I didn't notice til 2 days in since she started crying and saying "ORAAAANGE", and then I finally got it.

Rome and its affect (yes that's the right one) on me is kind of like that minus no melodramatic crying over hair color. Orange is my favorite color by the way, which I tried to tell Alex, but she couldn't hear me over her own wailing.

A year later and I've finally grasped the lessons from Rome; I can drink way more than I expected and chug beer well enough to earn a t-shirt. And I'm not as dependent or needy as I thought. That I can go somewhere completely foreign and adjust quickly. And other lessons of the sort, drinking and otherwise.