So...I was thinking...perhaps the reason I can't get into blogging lately is that I'm not allowing it to be what it has been for me in the past...basically a rant. I find that I humor myself the most by entertaining bitter thoughts about life. But...I mean...happy bitterness...the kind that gives satisfaction...perhaps it's like the satisfaction losers get from seeing how much pain they can withstand...by, like, stapling their hands over and over again. Only...my satisfaction comes from an enlightened, slight...anger? is that it? Meh.
I'm going to tell you about Italy...but not about all the AMAZINGLY beautiful secluded beaches...because that would just make you miserable...it would make you feel less than me (maybe) because you didn't get to go to a little island off the coast of Italy and stay at a little Villa with kitties that run to you when you exclaim, 'kitties!' I don't want to make you feel like that...because you are special.
So I'll tell you this: It was chilly...in the wind...somewhat warm in the sun...and all the Italians walked around with angry grimaces behind their layers and scarves while Liam and I stripped down to summer wear (except at night...because...i mean...we're not totally bad-ass). We rented a car...which I drove...because...well...Liam is from England and doesn't really need to drive..especially not on the right hand side of the road. My first shock came when I looked at the speedometer to discover I was driving 80....I let out a little yelp..which I quickly swallowed when I reminded myself that Italy measures things in Kilometers. so...i was really going like...30? you do the math. then I realized that everyone in Italy drives like they are on crack. CRACK...and that 80 is way way too slow for driving while on crack. Imagine little old me with triple my normal road rage...and i admit to having a decent road rage at present. There was one point, and I am not proud of this, when Liam had to yell at me to relax and let the Italians do their thing...because probably none of them wanted to kill me. WANTED to kill me.
We stuffed our faces...in fact...I'll tell you about the restaurants...or this one in particular...I can't remember the name but it was 5 courses including wine and a digestive (liqueur) for 35 Euro. The motto was 'only fish, only fresh, only at night' except, that, in Italian. I ate more than I have ever eaten in my life. I also ate things I never imagined I would eat...like squid ink pasta...well...only a little...i can only go so far. we also at these shell things that you had to dig out with a stick...it was kind of gross...but interesting? and when we finished our first half liter of wine (extracted from a giant 5 liter jug no doubt), they brought us another one. Oh...and the shrimps (excuse me, prawns)were giant with heads on them....another thing I just can't get behind...food that looks at me.
we also walked down 650 stairs to get to Neptune's grotto...which means we had to walk back up 650 stairs to get to the car. The grotto was very impressive and lovely...but instead of going for the cheap thrills of telling us little stories about people that may or may not have died in the grotto...the tour guide just talked about geology and stuff. aw well. I got to see liam bump his head a couple of times.
On the last day, we found a totally secluded beach. and it would have been totally rad if we didn't have to shield ourselves from the battering blasts of sand picked up and flung at our faces by the unrelenting winds. In the end we just found a beach with some kids on it, out of the wind, and I buried liam's foot in a mountain of sand while he read. I tried to get some sun, but when I got back to work, my coworkers, instead of giggling about all the sun I got said things like, "oh welcome back! did you have fun! you got some...sun? a little? maybe?" the confusion was probably due to the sand burns.
So Italy....more specifically, Alghero, Sardinia....while being quite magical...is also full of the realities of life...and to recap, those realities are: booger like fish that you will sometimes be obligated to try just so you don't look like a wuss, crazy Italian drivers, evil wind, and lots and lots of stairs.
But if you're really lucky...there will always be kitties.