Lost Week

This morning, like the last several mornings, I've woken up and thought blearily, "I should really drink less."  Flash forward twelve hours, people are handing me prosecco or a waiter is ready to pour some red wine, and, well, that resolution goes right out the window.  Everyone here is feeling it, except I suppose people who were already heavy drinkers, or the two second-year fellows, who assured us that "you totally get used to it!" Even aside from regular dinners, there are so many events.  Example: Tuesday night Amy decided to throw herself a 59th birthday party, with 30 bottles of prosecco and a dozen bottles of wine.  There were no leftovers.  Last night there was an art opening here--more wine and prosecco! I think I've lost my taste for prosecco entirely after being here a month.  But I still love wine.

So not that much has really been accomplished this week.  On Sunday we had a guided tour of my favorite spot in Rome, the non-Catholic cemetery, since one of AAR's advisors also sits on their advisory commitee.  Afterward I walked to the Baths of Caracalla, which I've never visited.  Walking there took a lot more out of me than I was expecting, since I was still getting over whatever ailment I had from last week.  Only the hulking skeleton of the structure stands today, with a few fragments of mosaic pavements on display here and there, but its scale is so incredible!  Coming to Rome is a good way to feel small.

Yesterday Claire and I went to Palazzo Farnese for our tour appointment.  This is the palace of Pope Paul III, under construction when Titian was in Rome.  It was cool to go inside, but it's the French embassy, so no pictures, no moving away from the tour, and, worst of all, the Carracci gallery?  Closed for restoration until June 2015!  Bah and humbug.

Afterward, we went to a fabric store, where we fondled Versace and Dolce & Gabbana silk fabric. There were a couple of really beautiful ones, including a print of Greek ruins from Sicily overlaid with brightly flowering tree branches.  We were there because  I had mentioned buying some fabric to decorate my office.  Now, Claire clearly comes from money, and she has a lovely, '50s-inflected wardrobe, much of which has been custom-made. Thus, she thought nothing strange about these fabrics costing 75 euro per yard (a dress would probably require 3 yards, and the dress-making easily another 200 euro!)  I raised my eyebrows at that, and she shrugged and said that she never puts a budget on her wardrobe.  Mmmm.  We are from verrrrry different worlds.  Thrift store, anyone?