Roma, Caput Mundi

From the brothel in Pompeii

I was fortunate enough to go to Rome for two weeks, let alone take a class there with some of the most amazing people I've ever met. It's crazy to think that such a short amount of time brings you closer with people. The setbacks are overruled by the amazing sixteen days I spent there.

Rome had me thinking a lot about nostalgia, specifically the objects and places we associate with it. Things that trigger memories. I have a card from a restaurant my friend Aimee brought a few of us to, and I found it in my planner  a couple of days ago. Turning it over, the images of the checkered tables came back to life, the cold, frigid air of the night felt harsh in my lungs. I remembered that I didn't have gloves on me, considering it had been in the fifties the entire time we were there, why would I need to carry them around? We went to a gelato place in the Pantheon neighborhood before (Soy gelato, soy gelato, soy gelato--it was amazing), who cares about spoiling dinner? It was our last night there. That's the worst part of any trip, realizing you're about to leave.

For the first time while I was there, I felt homesick. For my apartment, where I'm sitting now. I missed looking out onto the park across the road,  I missed walking up three flights of stairs after work, fingers frozen and mail tucked under my arm. That feeling somehow enhanced my experience. Rome is overstimulating in some ways, so much is going on. I hate to be a tourist that looks up at the buildings, but the architecture is layer upon layer. Culture on top of culture. I feel like I didn't take in enough, didn't step into the corners where I could have. I never made it to Trastevere, and I wish I had. The miles I walked are printed on the warn down treads and heels of my shoes. There's an entire journal full of writing and tickets used from museums and metro passes. Roma was well loved.

( I want to go back. )

So:

1. Three inches of my hair have been trimmed off and now it's layered again and looks like a normal person's hair instead of a crazy moor-roaming woman's. I don't live anywhere near a moor, but that's what I'd like to imagine how it looked at the time.
2. I'm behind in all of my reading! What else is new?
3. Today consists of making a raw blueberry tart with a pretty lattice covering, as well as a Christmas-eve-eve dinner with my mother's family and a lovely lunch with Meg.
4. Have I mentioned how much food I've eaten since I've returned? Even though they don't like to openly admit that they're extremely Italian in their ways, my mother's family force feeds you if you look skinny. "Oh, you look so good! Eat this entire shovel full of vegetables and bread--it's gluten free, I bought it just for you, honey--and oh my, look I guess I made some dessert!" Or, in my aunt's case, "Look, no one's around," and commence pouring a very healthy glass of wine. Not that anyone cares, we just pretend it's like sneaking around. As much as I love cooking, I do enjoy having meals prepared for me.
5. I need to go on a run after lunch.
6. And also take photos because this is getting ridiculous.
7. There's a lot of snow outside, finally. And I heard of that storm in the midwest that I missed. Really?

Author's note: This was from awhile ago, I guess rereading it brought some laughter to my empty apartment. I'll post an update from Rome in a little while. Meaning tomorrow, most likely, or later today. --Fallon