Oh yeah...

I also went to Barcelona before Rome. Did I post about that already? Oh God the humidity...

Bad Spirits

Sorry to report this entry finds me in the shadow of negative spirits. My computer has officially flipped...out. Entourage (my email program), along with about 50 sentimental/hilarious emails I've saved since acquiring this machine, are demolished. You know that scary Mac function where you drag a program from the dashboard onto the desk top and it literally goes "poof" and you think it's gone forever but no, it's just in your applications folder phew? Well worst nightmare, it went poof and then literally disappeared from my hard drive. Spotlight finds only a couple periphery files that have the word "entourage" in them. What the hell, Apple? My flight confirmation for Florence-->LAX was in that storage!! Aww, guess I can't come back to America. Which is ok, because the email detailing when I start work at Stanford is equally non-existent. Huh. Oh well.

Also, Aperture refuses to open. Aperture is my photo program. For some reason, with its functions, it has also taken down all my photos. I have this one folder "Aperture Library" which contains all my photos both pre- and post-dSLR, that just opens in Aperture. Conveniently, old photo folders that were in alternate storage areas, like "My Pictures," have turned into these so-called "alias" folders, un-open-able. DRAT that. I guess it might have to do with the fact that I filled up my entire hard drive. But I just freed up several MB's by backing up and deleting useless stuff. It still won't open. God. help. me. Thus I am afraid to upload any new photos onto my compy. I don't want to use that smelly software that came with my camera, or God forbid my computer. Don't expect many new picture postings, but check flickr.

Wow. The shadow passed. I suddenly don't care. Haha, I feel so cheery! But seriously, how sad is it that this whole thing is affecting my mood? Officially letting go of my dependence on The Machine...NOW. ok, that feels much better.

The 'rents came last week! A...good time...was had by all. We did all the fun Florence things that I had yet to do--Palazzo Pitti, um...other stuff that escapes my memory because of the blinding rage that dominated my mood for most of the week. HAHA JUST KIDDING DAD!!! Seriously, I had a really good time. I had some of the best food of my life, we had intelligent conversations, I got to show my parents how independent and worldly-wise I have become, ooh and aah! We also went to hike Cinque Terre, which is like PV but larger and more beautiful and with better gelato. The parentals thought it would be a good idea to beat all the times our map had detailed for each of the 4 hikes between the five cities. Much sweating was had by all.

Speaking of sweat, I'm schwizn like a shfitzer over here (excuse me, ancestors, for my spelling). Florence started it's humidity stint as soon as Mom n' Pop left. OH!!! OH THE HUMIDITY!!!! That's what I say when i have nothing else to say to my roommate. Unfortunately, it's zapped most of my desire to do...anything. But this weekend should be good, I'm staying in Florence ALL weekend, something I haven't done for literally a month. Updates soon on my very Florentine weekend! In the meantime, OOOOHHH, OOOOHHHHHHH THE HUMIDITY. I have to go lie on the floor. In our apartment lobby. Naked.

B(l)ing Trip a Roma

SO last weekend I went to Barcelona and it was a blast. However, it was far to long ago to actually remember what happened, so I will just direct you to my pictures (of which the barcelonian ones are plentiful): www.flickr.com/photos/chalfinpie
That should do it.
This weekend ever'body went on over to Rome on the Bing family's buck. It was a grand old time. We got there Friday morning and spent the day touring (il Colloseo, rovine, altre robe...). It was exhausting, but impressive and breathtaking (this was my very first time in Rome and I was a little PUMPED to be there). That night, we all went to the Parco della Musica (a brand new and very cool looking theater) to see a spettacolo (show). As one of our very observant Stanfordites commented, it was more like a spettacolaccio (if you add -accio to any italian word, it makes that word bad and disgusting and generally displeasing; for instance, mollaccio=a displeasing molly. similarly, mollone means gigantic molly, and mollino means cute little molly). It was called "Io, Charles Darwin" (I, Charles Darwin). It was basically like taking the core 2A, a-side (we talked about evolution all fall quarter), except in italian and with shirtless actors reciting, while three scientists sat on the side of the stage and intermittently said intelligent things in between taking shots of gin. Seriously. Spettacolaccio indeed. Also, I wore my Steve Madden heels for the first time. Really cute, but now my feet are dead. It was a fiasco of a night, which i ended by watching Italian MTV in my plush Bing-funded hotel (note the lack of "s" between the "o" and the "t" in that word). Meanwhile, the rest of my trip got sloshed and streaked around the hotel. Go Card.
Next day was a amazing. We didn't have to meet with the rest of the group until 1pm, so a few of us went to the Spanish Steps and, more importantly, at the bottom of the steps we saw the "most lavish" McDonald's--according to Rick Steves--in Italy. Later we went to the Villa Borghese and saw the Galleria, which was super. Dopo, St. Peters. I saw the Pieta, my european history teacher (Mr. Mac!)'s favorite statue in the whole world, and for good reason. Wow is all I have to say. That evening we got a private tour of the Vatican. Holy crap. Our group of 40 were the only souls there, besides snooty curators. My favorite part--cliche i'm sure--was the ceiling in the Sistine Chapel. I didn't know we were going in, but we entered this room and I got chills, probably because it was actually quite cold in there. Then I realized what it was! I wonder how often someone like Michelangelo is born. I have no words.
Most of Rome left me pretty speechless, and photo-less. I felt pretty silly trying to take pictures of all this stuff. Pictures never do these great monuments justice, and end up looking like post card pictures. I gave up eventually.
I stayed an extra night in a hostel. We saw the Trevi fountain by night. Fun. Today me and the two other jewish girls on the trip when to the Catacombs. ha. It was awesome. Now I am EXHAUSTED. So much walking! I'm waiting for my parents to contact me somehow. They have been here since Friday. My dad refuses to answer his skype phone. What the heck. Parentals, if you are reading this right now, please call me. Thanks. Bye.

Jots

The title of this photo is: "Scared!!! Scaaarreeed!!!" I guess only members of the Chalfin clan would get that. Hi Laura. You better be reading this, if you love me.

So I was sitting at breakfast by myself this morning in the kitchen, thinking about Cookie Crisps. Do you remember that cereal? I can remember two things about the commercial: the cartoon dog kept saying, "CoooOOOOOkie crisps!" and the cartoon kid would repeat, incredulously (or so I recall), "COOKIES for BREAKFAST?????" So this morning over my biscotti smeared with nutella, I scoffed at that kid. Cartoon kid, I eat cookies for breakfast every day of the week. It's a good thing I don't believe in buses anymore, because I would be one hefty foreign student if not for the hour+ I walk everyday.

Yesterday was a HUGE walking day. I walked all the way over to Il Parco delle Cascine, this huge park, and went to their famous market that is only open on Tuesdays (I went because it was Labor Day in Europe and the only Tuesday I have off from my favorite class in the world, femenist cinema). I walked all over the place. At the market I got the cutest little salt and pepper shakers in the world. They hug each other. I'll probably post a picture soon. They also sell them at the SF MoMA for an exorbitant price. I am well pleased.

Yesterday also was memorable because I bonded with my host mom! We talked for a long time after dinner (Harriet was out with her aunt from Taiwan) about life and deep things. Exciting times, and I am becoming more and more obsessed with Sandra every day. What a wonderful woman. Wow. Alliteration. It's coming back to me (I used to alliterate compulsively in academic essays, and it was a problem). Anyways, can you tell that I'm putting off work?

Pictures Please

So I've started to upload some travel pictures onto my flickr site. Feel free to make fun of me trying to figure out my dSLR. It's a work in progress. Here is the link, and enjoy:
http://flickr.com/photos/chalfinpie/

Londra Chiamando!

Picture: The Pisa airport really, really likes pigeons. Seriously. This is only a small sample of the pigeon tribute action going on in this place.

So I can recap really quickly my week:
School. Food. School. Wednesday was a holiday: beach trip to Viareggio. Swimming, tanning, rain. I also climbed a clown statue; fun was had by all. Next evening I was off to London.
London
First of all, allow me to comment on the quality of service on Ryan air. It sucks.
Anyhow, I got to London somehow all by myself. And by London I mean Stansted airport, which apparently is a little bit different. I slowly had several realizations, the sum of which amounts to a case of mild culture shock, I suppose. Here are my revelations, in chronological order, about London:
1. It's a lot more eff'ing cold in London than in Florence.
2. They speak English everywhere (though sometimes indecipherable)!
3. They are nice to you. Even helpful, I daresay!
4. Buildings are new. Buses are on time.
5. HOlycrapeverythingcostsamillionpounds.
So I get off the plane and try to figure out how to find the Stansted express. Sadly, it had stopped running, so I hurried over to the bus ticket booth to find my way to Queen Mary College, part of the University of London, where Sadaf studies (oh, by the way, I was visiting one of my best friends on God's great Earth, Sadaf of the University of Southern California and the greater Los Angeles area). Still in Italian mode, I pushed my way through to the front of the line, cutting off an (ironic) italian to buy my bus ticket. I grabbed it and boarded the bus as quickly as possible. Cozy in my seat snacking on box of chocolate chip cookies, I watched that very Italian woman I cut in line run after our coach as we pulled away. I laughed to myself a little. This is what Ryan air does to me.
On the bus, I was quite excited and realized how much I love traveling alone. Good thinking time, no groups to herd about and wait for as they take a wee (yes I picked up some London-ish while I was there). Perhaps, I thought, I shall take some time after the Florence program to travel alone for a few days. Ireland, maybe. I've always wanted to go. My attitude towards travelling alone would soon shift dramatically, as I was to see on the voyage home. Sit tight.
So I take a cab--driven by a half Jewish-American, half British orphan who proved to be quite friendly, full of paternalistic advice, and very much so racist--to Queen Mary near the Mile End bus stop. I meet Sadaf, we chat until 4am, and time for bed.
Next day (Friday), we woke up early to get over to Lord's for a grand ol' time watching a cricket match. Strange experience. Turns out people don't really go to cricket matches to watch cricket, but to be alone and sometimes tan, catch up on reading. Sadaf, Jeanine (sadaf's friend from UMich) and I were the only females present in the entire stadium. All in all, I'm glad I can say that I went. Not the typical tourist experience. I have no idea who was playing or who won, but I went and I had a chicken pot pie. After unsuccessfully trying to finagle some afternoon tea, we headed back to grab some dinner at the local super. Sadaf and I took in a movie, Fracture. Which was interesting. I ate a crapload of candy. It was great.
On Saturday, we went to Burrough market. A delight. Free samples everywhere. My favorite was the Italian booths. I was all, "hey kids, I eat this every day. and it's better." I felt very hoity toity and special. Afterwards, we headed over to the Tate Modern to see "the event of the year," according to London newspapers: the Gilbert and George exhibit. They were pretty IN YOUR FACE kind of guys. They didn't look like artists at all, more like two middle aged desk workers. On the other hand, there were a lot of semen and turds involved in their "sculpture" work. Yeah. You should google them, probably.
Then I dragged Sadaf to Portobello Market, where we went to Hummingbird Bakery. It came highly recommended by a girl I know who had gone to Oxford last quarter, and we bought some really really good cupcakes to have after dinner. We also perused the market a bit. I encouraged Sadaf to get her grandmother a magnifying glass with a ram's horn handle. She wasn't that enthused about it. If I didn't have to pay for carry ons, I would have totally gotten it. Yeah.
After a well deserved nap, Sadaf and I hopped on the tube (I had bought my own Oyster card for London Underground savings and convenience, and felt very local indeed) to get to Brick Lane, THE place for Indian food. SO delicious. I miss Indian--and all my other favorite food varieties, for that matter--so very very much, and it was great to get some since Italians don't really do food that is, er, not Italian. Back at home, we skyped Sadaf's grandma, had some fun giggle time/cupcakes, and hit the hay.
This morning (Sunday) we went to Oxford Circus to cram in some sweet shopping before I had to catch my plane home. WOW London has some great (albeit expensive) shopping. That is all. We also went to a chicken restaurant, and I had a spicy chicken caeser salad, another cuisine that escapes the Italians, and all was well with the world after 3 diet cokes (one of the only places I've seen in Europe so far that gave free refills. I was a little overzealous).
After many many other forms of transportation to get back, I found myself in Pisa at 10:15, stranded. The trains stopped running, the strike-obsessive bastards. I managed to find a bus that went to florence for only 8 euro, but it left at mezzanotte (nearly two hours later). With nothing to occupy myself except a giant bag of M&M's (hey, I needed to spend my last few pounds on SOMETHING), I sat outside cold, alone, bug bitten, near tears, chewing furiously, waiting for this God-forsaken bus, and trying to remember how to say, "I've been stabbed" in Italian; I don't think 911 operators here speak very much English. Finally, the bus arrived, and the driver promptly informed me that I was not allowed to wait on the bus until it was scheduled to leave. Welcome back to Italia, Molly. Anywho, I'm home and glad to be back, glad to have been outside of Italy, and dog-tired. If you're still reading, good lord! Go to bed. That's where I'm off to. My favorite picture from the weekend will be published soon. Fine.

Gioielli

When we find our necklace in an impossible tangle, we untangle it. No questions asked--until today. How did it happen? I had just laid it down for the night, clasp closed.
Just got back from Viareggio (beach) for a rainy independence day. Today I'm off to London. More heart-gripping and adrenaline-releasing blogging to come.
Oh, also, the picture: what I did in class today! a sketch from this statue in the Museo Nazionale del Bargello; this is the face of Florence after conquering Pisa (I think).