Ughhhh

It finally cools down in Rome, and I'm headed out of it! I love the Roman sky, but the Roman sun is pretty killer, so when I woke up and saw clouds I admit was excited.

Oh, but when did I wake up this morning? Not once, twice, but three times: 6:30, 7, and 8am, and it wasn't by the gentle buzzing of the alarm clock or Caitlin poking me, either--rather, it was by the ear-splitting whine of the BUZZ SAW being used on the terrace of the apartment across the street from us. Who the #$^ needs a buzzsaw at 6:30 on a Saturday?? I know not, but add to this that I went to bed at 2:45 and you have a very displeased person.

We went out for dinner with the art kids last night, and when our first choice restaurant couldn't seat nine people, we wound up on Piazza Navona eating at a place that literally stares at Bernini's Four Rivers Fountain and Borromini's Sant'Agnese behind it. And boy, do you pay for that privilege--despite the fact that we ordered no appetizers and didn't even wind up getting the bread that we had to ask for repeatedly, the bill was 30 euro per person, thanks to four bottles of 25-euro-apiece HOUSE WINE. The point of house wine, as you may know, it that it is REALLY FREAKING CHEAP, except, apparently, for the twilight zone of Piazza Navona. Anyway, despite the bill and the awful service, the food was really good, far better than anyone had expected from a tourist trap. Lesson learned all the same.

It was 11 by that point, and Alice decided it was past her bedtime and went home. The rest of us wandered in search of a fabled karaoke bar that the art kids had heard of, but after some aimless meandering and a call to one of Jess' friends in Canada who Googled it for us, we found out it was only a karaoke bar on weeknights. Then we decided to head to Trastevere, in the course of which I finally rode a tram (I was excited) and then did more wandering in search of, apparently, The Perfect Bar. Which doesn't exist, so when we exited into Piazza Sta. Maria in Trastevere, which was packed with people our age sitting on the huge fountain under the watchful eye of some Carabinieri, we ended up buying bottles of beer and a bottle of 8 euro wine from a pizza shop, which helpfully opens the wine bottle and gives you plastic cups. Sometimes (most of the time) I love Europe. They really don't care if you get drunk in public as long as you don't start singing the Italian anthem really loudly, as our compatriots on the other side of the fountain did; the cops' response was to amble over, stare at them fixedly till the singing died away, and then return to lounging in a corner of the piazza. The system works.

Even though at one point I had to venture to a cafe and shadily buy a package of Babol gum so I could use their bathroom, and although at another point Caitlin knocked over her beer on the step I was sitting on, thoroughly dousing my butt, it was a really fun time. I discovered that one of the art kids, Sally, has really similar taste in old movies as I do, and she is not the kind of person I would expect to be enjoying Arsenic and Old Lace, let me tell you. Finally, however, around 1:45 we thought we should head home--forgetting, of course, exactly how far that part of Trastevere is from where we live. That was about a 45 minute walk, made more pleasant by alcohol, but still pretty grueling toward the end when it's uphill. Oh, and Caitlin had not used a cafe bathroom and was about to die on our way home, so she hopped nimbly over a fence into a shady tree/garden/thing next to the Vatican walls to take care of business, while Bailey and I leaned against the fence and tried to look like we belonged there.

All told, a good evening, except for waking up only a couple of hours after going to sleep, and knowing I have a train to catch, and trying to convince myself to wash my hair here instead of at Carla's. I couldn't manage that part, so I'm hauling my hairdryer to Florence! Ah, well.