Sometimes it's not always magical...

Maybe I'm still riding the high off of going to Ireland last week and starting all of my new, amazing classes... Maybe it's because I think of every day that I am here as an adventure to be lived to the fullest... Maybe it's just hormones... I have no idea what the reason behind how much this past weekend managed to underwhelm me is, but I do know that I was very disappointed with it.

I try to make every day that I'm living in Roma valuable. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity and I don't want to squander my time here by doing things that I could do anywhere else in the world. So this mindset has left me very disenchanted after this past weekend. Almost everyone who is in my program ended up going to Munich for Oktoberfest and our apartment was dead. Only Lindsey and I were left in the flat, and when this place is normally filled with eight ladies that is just a bit jarring. I wanted to go out Friday night, but Lindsey wanted to have a night in, so rather than be a complete idiot and go out alone I was forced to stay home. I had quite a bit of reading to do for my courses, so I wasn't completely without purpose. 

By the time Saturday rolls around, rather lazily actually, I'm getting a bit stir crazy. I actually  recopied some of my notes into a more organized, neater area of my notebook. Official OCD diagnosis here I come! Anyways, I finally was going to go out with Lindsey and we were going to have a fun night. Unfortunately that is not how it went. We got to Scholar's, our favorite pub, and had a pint while we watched a Michigan vs. Oregon college football game - because that was the most exciting thing to do there. The pub was dead. So I voted to head over to Campo de Fiori, which is a very tourist-y and party focused area at night, but I had never been when it's in full swing. There were a ton of people, but they were all ridiculously pissed and obnoxious. This was not my particular brand of fun, but I was willing to move on somewhere else and find a nice bar, get a glass of wine, meet some people and practice my Italian. Lindsey was not. She complained the entire way back to our flat that she hated drunk people and crowds and that all she wanted was to go home. Needless to say I was frustrated. But we went home and passed out.

I spent Sunday doing some homework, but all of the downtime gave me a bit of too much time alone with my head. I would have gone out to escape cabin fever, but it was threatening to rain and the thunder and lightening had already started. Trapped in the flat I decided to watch the latest Doctor Who episode. I ended up sobbing. It was the mid-season finale and the point in time where the Ponds stop traveling with the Doctor. To say that I am emotionally attached to these characters is a bit of an understatement. My heart broke a bit. While I was crying my eyes out I began to think about Kev and how I had gotten a glimpse of the perfect kind of guy who exists and instead of trying to hold onto it, I , like the idiot I am, decided to let it go and exist in a perpetual state of unruinable perfection. But  at this moment I was looking back on it as a missed opportunity wondering if that was the only chance at love I might get, and I let him fly off to Sydney without even having my last name or a phone number. Now my heart is bruised and I can't really talk to anyone about it because the only advice to give is 'give it time, you'll meet someone new.' Although when people really get to know me I end up intimidating them with my freakish knowledge of history, art, and random facts and my obsessions with ridiculously nerdy things and my really strange sense of humor that can be a bit dark at times. So the realistic chances of me meeting someone who not only can handle these attributes but also find them endearing is slim to none. Pile up all of these issues with the fact that I afterwards decided to watch One Day (a romance movie with Anne Hathaway and Jim Sturgess) and I was a ball of tears and broken dreams. 

There was a bit of this going on...

And a bit of this... I'm not proud

By this morning (Monday) I was heading out to class and silently reprimanding myself for allowing the spiral of rather depressive thoughts to pile up and ruin my night/weekend. After my Italian class where I made a stupid mistake in front of the entire class of eight people I got myself a cappuccino and decided to head out to St. Peters to have some much needed prayer time. I ended up in a pew in the east transept and all of a sudden a priest was bringing in the eucharist and an official looking guy with an earpiece was turning tourists away from the area because mass was beginning (they just didn't want people walking up to the altar while the priest is going through holy rites and taking pictures.) I stayed and attended mass in the Vatican in Italian. What was crazy is that I actually understood the homily and most of what was happening. I even shook hands and offered peace to the people around me when the time came! I participated in communion in St. Peter's. My mom is going to be so proud! After mass I walked around and asked some of the ushers who worked there if they knew where the tomb of Pope Julius II was (I'm doing a paper on it). I ended up having about 6 small Italian conversations until I found someone who knew. I was so pleased that they just spoke to me in normal Italian, not trying to speak English or really slow Italian. 

I finally decided to head home and I took the long walk through the Gianicolo, one of Rome's seven hills and a large park. I got a great view of the city and some fresh air. I ended up getting lost in the northern part of my neighborhood, Trastevere. It was beautiful and magnificent and comforting. I love getting absolutely lost. In Roma it's not really a problem because if I just get to the Tiber I can get home. It's a bit too easy. But I found some cute little bars that I would love to go to for lunch and an open air market that was for once devoid of tourists. I got back to my flat and had a bit of a siesta. I realized that I had been out exploring the city and walking around for at least 3 hours straight, so I was a bit exhausted.

 I'm feeling better and more in one piece. Today made up for the weekend. I'm realizing that life here will not always be magical.... but then again there are the times when the city surprises you, whether it's with a religious experience, some quality sightseeing, or a chance at love. So I'm resolved to appreciate every moment (even the lackluster ones). Like right now I am going to go get me some pizza margherita and read some Vitruvius.