WAAAH!!!
Woy yoy yoy, what the crap happened to my webpage? Whatever that is, I'm not going to bother to fix it right at the now because I don't feel like it.
While I may have missed some people, I did not miss the States one bit. As a matter of fact, I cried my heart out as soon as we flew back into them. *Sigh*
Nonetheless, the past month was a dream and I was the happiest I have been in a very long time.
On the way from Germany to Italy I flew in a little plane, a nice 50-seater Alitalia Express. That was likely the best flight I have ever embarked on; I had a beautiful view of the Alps and various beaches and towns. The flight back was miserable because I did not by any means want to come back, but we did fly over Greenland and that was beautiful. I jotted down a description on the plane:
There isn't a cloud in the sky, so here is Greenland. Rather gorgeous stuff. Masses of mountains scattered like sharp and jagged pebbles in limpid waters with white icing and that dandruff that the sea has floating around. Icebergs are beautiful. It's about 4.40 there... we're halfway back, and oh-what-sorrow.
So there was Greenland.
The airport in Germany was terribly huge and I was mocked by some German jerks, but it all floated on okay. The airport in Cincinnati was tiny and I was treated like solid excrement by a rude bastard and then robbed by the intelligently deficient US Security services of my sausage (which was partly my fault because I wasn't bright enough to consider that the US would feel a threat at the knowledge that I was carrying some form of meat into their stupid country, but then again I was also exhausted and hadn't slept in two days).
There was a Via Amore in Santa Croce-- meaning Love Street. The earthquake of 2002 had greatly ruined it, far more than practically all other roads, and there were wooden trusses supporting whatever was left standing. One section of the road was outstandingly well, and there I heard a couple in a home carrying on a rather tempestuous fight. Let's just say I was disappointed.
I miss the place, I miss them all. However, it really was a wonderful month, and if circumstances don't want to completely and oh-so-rudely crack me open and suck my guts out and will actually allow me to return next summer, I will do so. I have some pictures, but unfortunately a lot didn't turn out any good.
I am tan, or decently so. I have learned a lot about my family and what I am made of, and I am a lot more like what my mother used to be than I ever knew. I am rather proud of that, and I am very proud of what I am, whatever that may be.
Lyndsey and mama agree that I have gained back my accent a little bit, and I am actually glad. Ahh.
Pics will be a mess, but I'll fix it later...
While I may have missed some people, I did not miss the States one bit. As a matter of fact, I cried my heart out as soon as we flew back into them. *Sigh*
Nonetheless, the past month was a dream and I was the happiest I have been in a very long time.
On the way from Germany to Italy I flew in a little plane, a nice 50-seater Alitalia Express. That was likely the best flight I have ever embarked on; I had a beautiful view of the Alps and various beaches and towns. The flight back was miserable because I did not by any means want to come back, but we did fly over Greenland and that was beautiful. I jotted down a description on the plane:
There isn't a cloud in the sky, so here is Greenland. Rather gorgeous stuff. Masses of mountains scattered like sharp and jagged pebbles in limpid waters with white icing and that dandruff that the sea has floating around. Icebergs are beautiful. It's about 4.40 there... we're halfway back, and oh-what-sorrow.
So there was Greenland.
The airport in Germany was terribly huge and I was mocked by some German jerks, but it all floated on okay. The airport in Cincinnati was tiny and I was treated like solid excrement by a rude bastard and then robbed by the intelligently deficient US Security services of my sausage (which was partly my fault because I wasn't bright enough to consider that the US would feel a threat at the knowledge that I was carrying some form of meat into their stupid country, but then again I was also exhausted and hadn't slept in two days).
There was a Via Amore in Santa Croce-- meaning Love Street. The earthquake of 2002 had greatly ruined it, far more than practically all other roads, and there were wooden trusses supporting whatever was left standing. One section of the road was outstandingly well, and there I heard a couple in a home carrying on a rather tempestuous fight. Let's just say I was disappointed.
I miss the place, I miss them all. However, it really was a wonderful month, and if circumstances don't want to completely and oh-so-rudely crack me open and suck my guts out and will actually allow me to return next summer, I will do so. I have some pictures, but unfortunately a lot didn't turn out any good.
I am tan, or decently so. I have learned a lot about my family and what I am made of, and I am a lot more like what my mother used to be than I ever knew. I am rather proud of that, and I am very proud of what I am, whatever that may be.
Lyndsey and mama agree that I have gained back my accent a little bit, and I am actually glad. Ahh.
Pics will be a mess, but I'll fix it later...
Francesca contentedly consumes her coffee at 8:24:00 PM
