Um, I'm in Italy. This is weird. Perhaps you haven't noticed, but I am a bit of an American. Not in all the ways that I consider that a bad thing (backwards conservative thinking, love of NASCAR, for instance), but in the sense that I am used to following the isolationist doctrine (which, actually, is also a bad thing, so forget it; I'm American in almost every sense of the word). I like a lot of America. I've seen a lot of America on various road trips. But I've never left the country until now. And, no, Puerto Rico doesn't count, since it is an American territory, and despite the Spanish speaking, it definitely feels American.
Venice does not feel American. It feels Italian. I've been here just over 24 hours, and I already feel Italian, for god's sake. It's just strange to me that I'm even here. It still feels like a dream. I mean, I have Euros in my pocket and I'm typing this blog from my dock on the Grand Canal of Venice. This is what I see when I look straight ahead:
And look at the view when I turn to the left:
My brain doesn't even know how to process those images yet.
I went to sleep last night at around 11pm (it was a struggle to stay awake that long), after watching the Red Sox win and the Dodgers blow a lead again. I didn't wake up today until 2:45pm. And I only woke up then because Christine came crashing through the front door, convinced I was dead because I hadn't responded to any of her emails (I didn't have an Italian phone yet) all day. I haven't slept like that since I was teenager (if even then), but I guess that's what jet lag does to you. So, I sort of wasted my first full day in town. But I walked Christine back to work, all the while trying to pay attention to the landmarks so that I wouldn't get lost when I had to make it back to the apartment on my own. And guess what? I didn't get lost. I walked back to the Piazza San Angelo, got some gelato, and took it back to the apartment. No wrong turns, and no need to pull out the map. Yes, I was proud of myself.
Tomorrow, I will wake up at a reasonable hour, and I will go for a jog. I will bring a map with me, but I fully intend to get lost because that's what I think one should do in a new city. I'll get lost, and then I'll find my way home again. And after the jog, I'll watch the archived footage of the Red Sox game, since I can't bring myself to wake up in the middle of the night to watch it live. At least not until I get used to the time change.
Right. Did I mention that I'm in Italy?
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