Very good at shopping, not so great at studying

As of Wednesday night all of my papers are handed in. Finished! Finitooo! All four were grueling but I think being able to pull from personal experiences, even just jokingly to myself, for all of them helped push it along. I mean, for Myth I wrote about an Egyptian goddess... Cleopatra was my best Halloween costume ever, I'm half of Rome's royal couple, and have been treated like gold here with my word as law (don't worry, Jen, it'll end soon). BOOM! For Art History I wrote about the Pantheon..... where did a certain gang of sailors waltz into my life on probably the most serendipitous, insane night of my (then) 20 years? Ohhh! For Anthropology I did a 26 page study and dissection of PDA in Rome.... boy and I have smooched our way all around this city. My Sociology research paper was on feminism in Italy, according to region- I was obsessed with my 'Women in Religion' class last semester and have had first hand relationship experience with a traditional Southern I-talian. Now I just have to channel that energy and work ethic into my finals tomorrow-Wednesday!

On Thursday night Lexi, Mon, and I went out with the boys in San Lorenzo to a really cute little pub (not to be confused with our original 'local-a pub-a') that was entirely decorated in soccer scarves from teams all over Europe. We played into the weee hours and then were driven home by our wonderful gentlemen. What service!
Friday was absolutely gorgeous. We grabbed our books and hit Villa Borghese for some sun and studying. Saturday is a blur of trying to force myself to keep trekking through Art History, booking train tickets, and of course grocery store runs.
This morning the three of us woke up early (8:30!!) and ventured out to the gigantic Porta Portese flea market. As usual, one of us acquired a stalker on the bus. I was the oh-so-lucky one this time and enjoyed 15 minutes of leg-bumping, unrequited flirting in Arabic, intense staring, suggestive looks, and being followed off the bus. Ooooh, love connection!! However, the endless stalls of the market quickly pushed all thoughts of creepers from my mind. My super exciting purchase was a beautiful new brown, studded watch. I drooled over this watch when we were away in Riccione last month and again when I saw it in a boutique in Rome. Imagine my delight when I spotted it for a fraction of the price at Porta Portese today! After some haggling, I got it for 10euros! Being as I am very much my father's daughter, what with having a painful, Jay-Z-like watch addiction, this totally made my day!
Of course, Monica and I also got cute little leather Roma bracelets because we're lame. I got a bright blue one with a black design, too. We also got something for Jennifer (not a rock) and a jersey for my Pa. Mon also got really adorable sandals for 10e- she is ready for our Southern Italian adventure! The rest of our day was spent enjoying Roma... including falafel and kebabs from Campo, mmm.

Speaking of our adventure- plans have changed! While we were originally planning on spending 2.5 weeks traveling Venice, Poland, Germany, and Amsterdam starting on the 25th.... our love for Italy has made it impossible to leave so soon. So, new plan:
We still leave Rome on Sunday, but will keep our bags at school. We'll head down to Naples (and hopefully not get our purses stolen, as the Anti-Napoli Giampiero, Tony, and Alessio have now all told us will happen) for two days, with a day trip to Pompei. From there we are off to the incredible island of Capri! After Capri we're going to the world-renowned Amalfi Coast for even more fun in the sun and beaching like the little darlings that we are. We may hit up Sorrento, too. Then we're off to Salerno, where our pal Andrea is from! He's coming home for the weekend and ready to play tourguide, wahoooo! On Sundayy night from Salerno we will come back to our dear Roma for a few final days... :( After saying what I'm sure will be some very difficult goodbyes, we're hopping a train and heading north for 5ish days in Florence and Venice. We're taking an overnight train from Venice-Munich, spending a day in my beautiful motherland, and then taking another overnight into Amsterdam, where we'll enjoy 3 final days of Euro freedom! I hope I don't lose Mon in a drug den. The chances are really, really high (pun not intended at first, but now fabulously cheesy!!).

Thanks for being a little study break, blog! Time to get back to Anthro- I can't disappoint my man, Greggorio. Another special thanks to Rino Gaetano (rip) for singing me through finals and this blog update.

My super cute new watch, for my Mommy to see:


Miss Monica and her sandals!:

Rome.... a lifetime is not enough.

Two weeks from right now, this life will be stuffed into a suitcase. Coasters and receipts that have to double as mementos will be slipped into every available space and I know nothing will be organized, despite the fact that I will be living out of said suitcase for 2.5 weeks. I'm ridiculously sentimental and don't see anything heading towards a garbage can.

Who would want this to end? I spent today doing some of my favorite things- picnicking, tanning, and writing with my pals in Villa Borghese (with a lovely pony being grazed nearby!), cooking dinner for a visiting friend, and drinking a Caprisoka while giving a moonlit tour of Rome. It's 2am and I'm stretched out on 'megabed' alongside Mon (we're straight, we just like to cuddle. OKAY?), our massive window is open with the curtains drawn back, letting in the chill and sounds of our quiet corner of the city. I have so much work to do, but it's okay, because my time here hasn't come to a close yet. There are still fourteen more days to soak it up before it's gone.

But I guess that's what things do.... they end. It's our challenge to keep moving on and growing, even when it seems impossible. This has probably been the best time of my life and I'm sure there's great things to come for me, but not so certain this can ever be topped. That's the trouble with delirious happiness- there's nowhere to go but down. I can't ever deliberately try to top this experience. That would just be impossible and most likely disappointing. Nothing could compare to the exhilaration, constant hysterics, the intense passion, and the unadulterated freedom. I'm just very happy to have had excellent people to share it with.... even though I don't think I'll ever see some of them again after leaving here. That really does break my heart.

What will we be for those 2.5 weeks? A couple of nomads traipsing around Europe with too much baggage. I'm Rome-sick and still here. Late on Saturday nights/early Sunday mornings, the streets get meticulously scrubbed down. The smell permeates the air and makes everything feel new. It makes holding the hand I've learned so well feel like the first time, screaming to lagging counterparts down the road over the great whirrrr of the brushes becomes hysterical, lips stretch over teeth in coy smiles, piercings glisten under the streetlamps, the smell of cigarettes is drowned out. We jump over the puddles and hold each other over the slick spots. Stop to kiss because I like the way your eyes just shined when I looked at you. Glimmers in time that I want to hold onto forever, dig my nails into and carefully file away in the deep recesses of my mind. But it just can't be. Non permesso. We don't always get what we want, and that's a brutal pill to swallow. Time will erode it all, and someday I'll be in a rocking chair and wonder "What was his name...?"

I don't care about how badly I want these papers to be finished and handed in, and these finals all done. April 25th.... please take your sweet, sweet time getting here. My greatest love, my friend Roma, and I haven't quite finished yet. She wants to show me Villa Borghese in July, Via del Corso at Christmas, and go for wandering strolls down more of her winding streets. You see, we still have a lot left to teach each other. I've finally found the ponies. She finally stopped raining.

Roma....Non basta una vita <3 ........."Problem" ;)

we clung to each other like children, both scared of the life that lay in wait outside the door, eager to stay in the temporary world created by sweet whispers, raucous laughter, and gentle brushes of skin that turn to the boldest of touches.
it’s safe to share fears when your confidante speaks in another tongue. you can take a deep breath, push the cards away from your chest, stretch out our elbows, roll your shoulders. the air wont burn the throat and tightly wound muscles gain much-needed relief. the most magnificent of secrets becomes a game of whisper-down-the-lane for two. my greatest fears are repeated back to me in garbled english, the beautiful mouth they slip out of having only a small insight to the meaning. his confusion brings me a sense of catharsis, with an unfortunate trace of guilt.

"Sometimes in your life, you need lust. You need the adrenaline rush of knowing that this is not forever and that you're not committed to anything."

I've found that I am my happiest while....
-surrounded by my family, looking out across the ocean with the mediterranean sun beating on our shoulders and snow capped mountains on the horizon, eating fabulous food
-sipping on Madeira wine with my sister
-screaming the (correct, although the tv screen says otherwise) words to old Spice Girls songs with my girlfriends on karaoke night at an Italian club while my favorite boy smiles and cheers us on
-stretched out in the sunshine with my best friend on a Tuesday afternoon in Piazza del Popolo
-dancing and singing along like a lunatic to Gaga in my fave Italian disco, which my Lady-Gaga-hating boy slyly requested for me
-kissing said boy all through out the eternal city

Completely different, but I've never felt like I hated school so much in my life. I loved school last semester. It was so challenging. I was always writing, working, reading, thinking, learning... but it was palatable. I tackled 41 essays and came out with nothing under a 94%. I'm not used to struggling, I don't like it (although, being reasonable- who does?), and I feel totally intimidated and inadequate. I also really, really miss my pony.

a karam's a karam through and through.

being a karam with a 50% infusion of german blood is really quite the experience. you see, there are certain situations/ridiculous behaviors, ranging from atrocious to fantastic, that karams seem capable of getting themselves into far too often. a few recent examples...

my whole family- parents, sister, and grandparents- deciding to take a cruise around europe with me on my spring break. yayy, wonderfully karam!

the fact that i'm somehow playing with a dashing italian sailor who sends me crazy messages and comes to my apartment to cook me lunch, bring me wine, and clean my entire kitchen? ooh, pretty "karam"!

roughly 3 hours before departure for the airport yesterday, my father (who is by far the MOST clothing obsessed out of our incredibly fashion-driven, slightly materialistic clan) still had yet to pack. or even take out his suitcase....KARAM!

oh wait, or maybe the fact that my sister was denied boarding onto the airplane to come see me yesterday because her passport is beaten up? PRETTY GODDAMN KARAM.

or the fact that she's sitting in philadelphia right now, as it's blizzarding, waiting on an emergency passport renewal? yep...karam.

hmm, that at 3am via skype, from rome i was telling her where to get passport photos taken in philadelphia? and i'm now sitting across the ocean in an utter panic and feeling totally helpless? k-a-r-a-m.

ohhh or maybe the teeny tiny issue that my parents and grandparents have not contacted me or my sister to let us know that they've arrived? or where we should be meeting them tomorrow now that the entire plan has changed? KA-FREAKING-RAM. through and through.

i love my family like nothing else- but it would not hurt us to be a little bit more organized. so this time tomorrow, if all goes according to the latest plan (a constantly changing, never certain, borderline joke for karams) i will be boarding a cruise ship in barcelona with my family. my entire family! in europe! with me! my parents, sister, and incredible grandparents. plus i will have my beautiful polish bride by my side. monica ogonowski-karam.... it is has a beautiful ring to it. LITERALLY MY WHOLE FAMILY! IN EUROPE! :) i will get to celebrate my 21st birthday in MOROCCO with those crazies! someone may fall overboard. luckily, in typical karam style.... we will probably be the culprits and not victims. woops.

in the words of the ever wonderful feist, "it's cool, it's cool to love your family" <3 the past week has been one of the most academically trying and exhausting of my entire life. i am tired, most likely developing an ulcer, and will not be at ease until i am stretched out in the sun alongside my sissy.

on a different note- this will be like the first birthday in 5 years not with kel :( :( :( :( :(

"We'll get nowhere if we've forgotten where we've been"

I spent a good portion of my first few weeks in Rome genuinely disliking this city for something that it just can't help. I resented Rome for being Rome. My immediate reaction is to now regret that week or so I spent wallowing internally. Incessant thoughts about how I should have gone to Germany, the disorder, how rude the people were, the terrible exchange rate, and the seemingly impenetrable language barrier took over my brain. This is not to say that I spent every moment being miserable, and many people at home probably had no idea, but I let loose on those closest to me. I'm not sure what would have happened without those little bandaids of encouragement and love-slaps into reality. My mother deals with my constant neuroses, my sister always knows what to say, my father breaks my heart with his sadness but makes me feel so loved, my wonderful cousin vents and squeals daily with me through all the ups and downs, Jen -despite her feelings- rises up to share her infinite wisdom, Kelli pushes me along, Lexi is prepared to offer comic relief, and even Ken has been a voice of reason and reassurance as I cried to him, ranted, and berated this fine country. But most of all, Monica has been there to share my worries, fears, and above all else- joys. We spend solid portions of every day laughing to the point of physical discomfort, whisper in the dark like little girls, know when it's time to push or just stay quiet, and when to just let me play that song for the tenth time. That type of synchronicity is rare and cherished.

I'm happy to be where I am right now. The rough spots seem a thing of the past, and it's comical now that I thought I had gotten to a "good place" when I accepted that Rome was something new and I'd be home soon enough. I never want this to end. Never again will I have this freedom, this opportunity, and this ability to embrace a certain amount of recklessness without much guilt. There are moments when I feel absolutely gripped with terror that this will end- I will leave Rome, go back home, and say goodnight to the discos. I love walking down the street and hearing a different kind of house music from each passing car, or being serenaded by a man on his Vespa. Or better yet- being serenaded by a handsome sailor with traditional Southern love songs. Art, formal or informal, is literally everywhere. This city is insane and I am drunk off of its magnificence.

The blatantly staring, and often brooding, eyes on the street and metro have stopped bothering me and become almost endearing. Something being "so painfully Italian" now makes me smile instead of roll my eyes. I love the boys in their ridiculous coats, the old women pulling their shopping bags, and our sweet market ladies. I've now spent hours having conversations with a boy that only speaks about as much English as I do Italian (aka not much) and at a certain point, and with an incredible amount of laughter, it all stops mattering. Replacing this word here, that gesture, this reenactment, this French phrase- and the message somehow gets across. We're all pretty damn similar when you get right down to it.

At first, I had huge problems with the lack of efficiency, at least in my definition, through out the city. However, I've come to realize that "we'll get to it when we get to it" attitude is just another thing that makes Italy, Italy. My obsession with order and punctuality in others has been forced into submission- and that's honestly a relief. Everything here is just slower and that's exactly what I didn't know I needed. I'm always in a rush, plotting my next move, eager to bend everything to my useless specifications, and quick to make a judgment. I've found myself having to drastically reduce my stride to "slow down" to the speed of a lean Italian boy with legs far longer than my own. He walked at ease, listening to my every word, nodding thoughtfully, and stopping frequently to explain things. It was infuriating at first- until I realized that my rush was senseless. What changes if we get to the bar five minutes later? Life was meant to be enjoyed and I need to stop treating every day like a check list. My very German desire for order and extreme efficiency has been forced to take a backseat, and for now, that's just fine.

dear rome,
even though you go to sleep way too early, while i have cut sleeping out entirely, i just wanted to let you know that you're really just what the doctor ordered. you and your esteemed naval force. grazie.
love,
elise
ps i would also like to thank southern italy. you really know how to grow 'em.