Our dirt bikes bring all the boys to the yard. Damn right, they're better than yours.

Tuesday, June 07, 2005

Quotes from Rome!

1. "So you love money more than her?" (Last night at the Trevi Fountain, when one of the omnipresent flower-sellers tried to get Chris to buy a rose for me and he refused. His answer was "yes.")

2. American man: "Ewww, that's disgusting!"
American woman: "It looks like a cartoon."
American man: "Well, it's gross." (In reference to a tapestry in the Vatican museums depicting the slaughter of the innocents.)

3. American girl 1: "Who built this?"
American girl 2: "Michaelangelo."
American girl 1: "Well, he obviously never tried walking to the top." (In reference to the long climb to the top of the dome of St. Peter's Basilica.)

Anyway, it's the end of our second full day here in Rome, and Chris is apparently documenting yesterday, so I'm allowed to write about today. After much frustration involving our hotel (our power went out yesterday afternoon and, thinking nothing of it, we went out, only to discover when we got back around 11pm that it was still out. They managed to fix it this morning, or so we thought until I tried drying my hair and we discovered that none of our plugs were working. This resulted in a very sad Kristine having to go out with unstyled hair. Needless to say, there are no photos of me from today. When we got back this afternoon the plugs were fixed but the water heater was broken. Confusing).

When I wasn't complaining about my hair today we were walking around the Vatican, enjoying (and then getting frustrated by) the endless museum of totally random stuff arranged in a totally random, undocumented Italian kind of way. When we finally made it to the end of the museum we found ourselves in the Sistine Chapel, something that (I hate to say) I remembered being much bigger and more impressive than it was (I was 15 the last time I was in Rome, though, so maybe I was shorter or something. That was Chris's theory, anyway). We then made our way through the shoe-meltingly hot streets to St. Peter's Basilica, which I remembered being much smaller and less impressive than it was (it all balanced out in the end).I really don't know how to describe this, so I'll just use a string of ramdom words: ornate; aweing; huge; Pope-tacular; nuns-on-pilgrimages-crying-at-the-sight-of-it; Catholics-sure-like-spending-money-on-their-churches-tastic; dwarfs-anything-else-we've-seen.

Right. Rad, in other words. We then went back to our hotel, where I watched Chris yell at inanimate objects some more (if I've learned nothing else on this trip, it's that when Chris gets mad about something, like our water heater not working, he takes it out by screaming at things that can't hear him. Better than screaming at me, I guess). After he got that out of his system, we went out for a fantastic dinner (courtesy of my mom, who was unnecessarily worried about us running out of money), which included free champagne, a choice of several kinds of grappa or limoncello at the end, and conversation with some dumb but friendly North Carolinans (North Carolinians?). And now, apparently, there's a thunderstorm outside. Time to go drink huge glasses of beer at the strangely common Bavarian restaurants around here, methinks.


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