Mood: Beehive Brain
I’m on the brink of a European vacation and fairly vibrating with the excitment. I can’t concentrate on work, am completely worthless in meetings, and really just need to get on a plane and go, already. But I haven’t packed yet. And that will take awhile…
This time around, Boy and I will be visiting the lovely cities of Paris, Zurich, Florence, Milan, and wherever else we happen to stop along the way.
I’ve already got my tickets to see DaVinci’s Last Supper in the convent of Santa Maria delle Grazie, Michelangelo’s David at the Accademia, and one of my favorite paintings, Botticelli’s Birth of Venus at the Uffizi. I’m also hoping to come face-to-face with the Mona Lisa while in Paris.
It won’t all be museums, though. There will be lots of eating and shopping and general meandering about. I find that getting lost in a new city is one of the best ways to get to know it. And I plan on getting lost both on foot and by scooter. We’re going to be doing a lot of rail riding, as well, but I’m pretty sure we’ll stay on track with that mode of transport.
I’m hoping to get inked by Laura Satana while I’m in Paris. Boy and I got our first international tattoos while we were in Rome last year, and we want to continue the tradition on this trip. (I’m sure my mom will be happy to hear that.)
One of the best parts of this trip is that we’ll be meeting up with friends while we’re in Italy. It will be fun to see some familiar faces in a strange land. Last year, toward the end of our two-week stint, I really started to miss my friends. It’s eerie to be in a country for an extended period of time and realize that absolutely no one except your partner knows who you are.
There is so much to look forward to. I’m already inspired and I haven’t even done anything yet! I predict this trip will yield a cinepoem (or two). Meanwhile, I’ll continue to be manic and worthless. Perhaps I’ll start packing early, just to make myself feel better. It’s going to be a miracle if I can close that suitcase without sitting on it!
-Lo, who has been trying to recall those two years of college French but so far can only remember “Je m’appelle LaDonna” and that football player with Tourette’s who sat next to me with an occasional twitch.