I think its time that I started writing for myself again. This MySpace phenomenon is ruining my life, both literally and in my mind as well. First, on Tuesday, which is street sweeping day on my side of the street, every week for the last 22 years of my life, I got a ticket. I knew that the street sweepers were coming yet I left my car parked out front while I was commenting on peoples' MySpace when I could've just left my house on time and avoided a $39 parking ticket. But thats not what really upsets me.

MySpace has taken my life over. When I come home I have to check my email, which will tell me whether or not somebody has left me a comment. I feel slightly sad when I haven't received one for an entire day, but whats worse is when you've left somebody a comment, and you don't receive a reply and you know they've been online because you're creepy like that and you checked their MySpace and they responded to some other comment on their page because you checked your friend's friend's page. How paranoid and insecure is that? I've never had such a swing in emotions as the one that MySpace has sent me on. Its like I need constant reaffirmation of my friendship with everybody that I know. I go to other peoples' pages in good faith to leave them a friendly comment or ask them a question and when they don't respond you ask yourself, were they too busy to respond? Or do they not care enough even though I took time out my day to leave them a comment in the hopes of brightening up their day? Or am I just overthinking things and my life wasn't nearly this complicated before MySpace? And then about a week ago I was deseperate for comments. I was actively complaining, on the phone, to a friend that nobody had commented on my page. I had left a comment for a good friend of mine that I thought for sure they'd comment me back and they didn't. I thought my life was over. But the worst part of this is that I know the person who didn't comment me back is my friend no matter what and I was ON THE PHONE with another friend so its not like it was my only friend in the world. I hate MySpace and yet I can't live without it.

I'd like to welcome myself back to the world of blogging and journal writing. Hurray for me.

Angels and Airwaves - Start the Machine

Today I got my photos back from Rome. I had this plan to take photos of everybody in the program with an old point and shoot film camera. I still like the surprise of seeing my pictures instead of the instant results of the digital camera. Or at least I thought I would. Instead my photos really turned out to be a giant crap shoot. Some turned out how I imagined they would, but others were disappointing. And then others I just didn't even remember taking. But I'm glad I took these photos, even the bad ones. The photos from my digital camera are mostly viewable because I already filtered out ones that had poor lighting or were out of focus. I think learning to accept the failures of my photography with the successes teaches me a lesson. I have to deal with the fact that I've got to just accept what I have right now in this moment because thats all I'll ever have.

The last 3 weeks I've been home I've been trying to post something relevant about Rome. I've searched the depths of my memories for some meaning or something tangible that I can point to in order to sum up my experiences. But for some reason everytime I think of Rome all I can think about is how delicious the world's "4th best pizza" in Piazza Risorgimento is. I only ate there twice, both times during the last week of the program yet thats what comes to mind first and almost immediately. I'm not sure what I'm supposed to feel about it all. I certainly don't want to forget any of it, but I realize that I have already forgotten more than I can afford to.

I think the thing about Rome I miss was the exploration. Certainly the free time to do the exploring was helpful, but being in such a different environment lent itself to a lot of discovery. And whats more, is that all of this discovery was done on foot, for the most part. Although I missed driving and I still enjoy it, there is a certain disconnectedness about it. Walking places forced me to absorb the surroundings. Here at home, I even drive to the grocery store, although its not far, a mere 5 minutes by car. But walking? I couldn't even tell you, but I'd guess at least 20 minutes. Life and society is just different here, obviously. (Revelations continue to evade me...)

Imogen Heap - Hide and Seek

The adventure in Rome ends this week. I fear that I'm leaving this episode of my life much the same as when I entered it. I don't feel as though I've grown immensely as a person because of this trip and perhaps that was just how I am. I certainly have learned a lot and met some new, interesting and fun people, but on a personal level I feel more lost than ever.

People say that they regret not having done certain things, particularly on my program and that certainly applies to me as well. I was thinking about when the first time I met some of the people on this program was. Not over 4 months ago, obviously, yet I couldn't remember. I went over to some people's apartment tonight to ask them if they remembered, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. It seemed to me asking such a thing would constitute some breach of the friendship, although I'm sure it means nothing. Our first encounter was simply uneventful because of the large numbers of new people we met in such a short period of time.

Over the course of the last month, thinking about home made me wish the departure date couldn't come sooner. Its not that I was having an awful time in Rome, I certainly am not, but the thought of home made me feel good. Perhaps it was knowing what was there awaiting me. But now that date bears down on me and I don't know what to feel anymore. I want to go home, that I know for sure. Yet my decided preparedness to go home 2 months into the program has left me. I no longer feel the desire to retrun home, but perhaps that is a product of my pending return to America. I always want what I can't have because the grass is always greener on the other side and hope springs eternal if I know what awaits me on my set path.

Nek - La Vita E

Saturday night I tagged along with the Sociology of Postwar Italy class to a "night life" site visit. We were lead by Italian to this hole in the wall club. Well okay, first we went to this trendy looking bar with a Hendrix coverband playing. But then we went down the street to some shady looking building. There were no signs, just graffiti and not like a graffiti signs. I'm pretty sure the graffiti had nothing to do with what laid inside. We crowded past the Italians waiting at the entrance and got into the club. It was sort of confusing at first. On stage was some sort of band, but they had no guitars I can remember. All I remember was a lot of brass instruments. It must've been a 12 peice band. It was crazy. But they played only two songs before the left the stage.

The club DJ then started to spin some strange, maybe Middle Eastern music. I think its silly but all the Italians get into the dancing. Now while normal Italian men are forward, here, they don't seem to take too much interest in hitting on people, they simply dance. And by dance I mean flail arms, jump around and do anything they want, in rhythm (or not) to the music. Well, when in Rome... So I and the rest of the Americans jumped in and danced. We moshed, I did whatever I felt like doing, dancewise. It was awesome. No need to worry about meeting the beats because dancing to Beck, Nirvana and oldies don't require too much ability (which I don't have anyways). But what really made the night for me was while I did whatever my heart desired, I thought of somebody I hadn't thought about for a long time. Not just since before I came to Rome but even prior to that. Thinking of her made me happy, realizing where I'd come and how I was able to live in the moment like I'm thinking and hoping she is (and would do) too. It was my best night out in Rome yet.

N'Sync - It's Gonna Be Me Man, how awesome are boy bands?

Italian guys are funny. Its totally normal for people to just stare at other people here in Italy. Like guys can totally be checking out a girl and nobody thinks anything of it. In fact, people can just stare at other people and its completely normal. I'm still not used to it and I try to stare other people down if they look at me for too long. But I do enjoy watching the Italian guys just because they're creepily funny. Perhaps if I hang out with them more I'll adapt some of their traits, haha. I'm still getting the hang of approaching Italian girls. They don't seem to be quite as receptive of foreigners as American girls are of European guys. I don't know, I think I need to drink a little earlier for the liquid confidence. Ha.

Joshua Radin - Closer

hail and cold freeze me
yet rome is still beautiful
and spring in spain waits!