Monthly Archives: February 2012

This weekend I went to Paris.  It was pretty average.  Didn’t see anyone important- just kind of hung out with strangers.

Susan and Grace are studying abroad there, so me, Miranda, Zim, and Rebo went to visit! It was SO amazing to see everyone. I missed them all so much, and it was so relieving to just be back in our usual rapport- we all knew all of the major characters and backstories, and were able to just catch up and talk and be with each other.  It was great.

It was also exhausting- my flight was at 7am and I had to wake up at 5 to get there (the Florence airport doesn’t open until 6…who knew that airports close?).  We went to bed at 2 the night before so…. that was poor decision making.  By the time I got to the hotel it was 12 (took a lot of trains and connections and metros- and I was groggy and surrounded by a language that I don’t know so it was a struggle) and I went to meet up with everyone at Les Deux Magot.  Literally jumped into each and  everyone’s arms.  Ugh, I missed them so much.

After lunch we got the most delicious macarons, saw a church (I was REALLY out of it- so unclear what church it was.  Someone care to enlighten me?  Whatever we didn’t go inside- just the exterior and a fountain) and went on a walk through this gorgeous park where I was just loving life.  It was such a beautiful day and I was so happy to be with everyone (have I mentioned that yet?) and life was great.  And little Parisian schoolchildren really do walk two by two!

We then went to Notre Dame and me, Grace, and Susan went inside.  Holy Cow (haha its a church, get it?).  It was gorgeous.  And there was a service going on so that made it more mystical and I was in complete awe of the ancient mastery of the building.  It’s so old and yet the architecture is so smart and so intricate and so beautiful.  Then we went to a lock bridge and headed off the the Louvre!

Everyone at the Louvre tries to take these pictures where it looks like they’re pinching the top of one of the glass pyramids.  Oh?  It was bizarre.  Naturally, my friends joined in thinking it would make cool looking pictures:

When actually it just makes everyone look like they are doing some spastic “I’m a Little Teapot” dance.  I took pictures of all the people looking like idiots posing with nothing.

Fun fact: I can sing I’m a Little Teapot backwards.  I taught myself how during a particularly boring study hall period freshman year of high school because I needed something to focus on in order to not go crazy.

Hey guys. Wassup.

We didn’t spend much time at the museum because we were all exhausted and needed to get home, but I saw the basics.  The Victory sculpture, Venus, Mona Lisa, Code of Hammurabi, some great Egyptian artifacts.  I love Egypt.  The crowd at the Mona Lisa (or as I call her, Monzy) was ridiculous for such a tiny picture- but it was great.  Rebecca appreciated everything in sight.  Miranda and I took obnoxious pictures. Typical.

We went back to the hotel and ZIMMY ARRIVED.  Ran into her arms in the lobby.  We stayed in a hotel together and Miranda and Rebecca stayed in one together.  We went to dinner at this fancy delicious restaurant. Zims and Susy got escargot.  I ate escargot on my cruise in 7th grade and that’s the last time for that I think.

It was a long, delicious meal and we didn’t get out until 12 so we went home, watched the Junior year video and went to bed.  It was great to watch the video with all of the stars, I’m so glad that I documented the semester and definitely want to do some more documenting while abroad.

The next morning we went to the Eiffel Tower!  I’m afraid of heights and was bugging so I had to sing “Whistle a Happy Tune” to myself and focus on the floor to keep from freaking out.  Rebecca kept suggesting I sing obnoxious songs like “Free Falling” which was a great combination of humor and insensitivity.  Our friends to a tee.  Miranda didn’t join us, but her bag and colored jeans matched.  I love her.  The scene from the tower was incredible; France is just so beautiful even in the fog.  Rebo was a little nauseas from her ham and cheese crepe, which was a questionable decision on par with all of the fried ravioli she ate at Freshman Formal.

Then we went to Angelinas!!  We got the Mont Blanc (mmm mmm good!),  more macarons, and delicious hot chocolate with whipped cream.  Thumbs up for eating our way through Europe!

We then trekked through that area which is like the Fifth Ave of France, which of course I should know the name of but I don’t because as I mentioned: I was really tired all weekend.  We saw the Arc de Triumph (def butchered the spelling on that one.) which I loveddd.  Fun fact: I’m obsessed with Napoleon Bonaparte.  He is by far my favorite Emperor in the history of the world and I love him so much and sophomore year my obsession with him was one of the motivating factors behind my quest to be Supreme Benevolent Dictator of the World.  Yes, that used to be my career aspiration.  My chem teacher, Mr. Amara, used to call me Empress and I signed all of my tests and papers as “Empress Jacobson”. Dream big Lyssie, dream big.  After we saw it we also went to the Invalides to see where he’s buried but it was closed, which was very sad.  I guess I’m going to have to come back to Paris! Ohhh mannn!!  We then headed out to an Entrecote for dinner- which was delicious.  I googled and they have this style restaurant in New York and I fully intend on going when I return because it is my new favorite type of food.  I got the delicious butter sauce on my shirt.  Typical.

We went out to a bar that night where they played the best music ever and walked around the Latin Quarter.  My feet hurt realll bad. Verge of tears bad.

The next day Zimmy left (wahhhhh I miss you) and we went shopping a bit and had falfel for lunch.  Well, everyone else did.  I got a banana nutella crepe.  Good decisions were had by all.

So I got a shuttle to take me to the airport since I was too exhausted to have to worry about carrying my huge backpack and doing transfers on the metro and train.  He picked me up at 4:20 for a 6:45 train, which I thought was reasonable.  We didn’t get there until 6 because he had “other stops to make”.  Yea, and I have a plane to catch.  I was also falling asleep and couldn’t keep my eyes open in the car.  The last call for checking baggage was 6:15, and I had to check my backpack because I had my shampoo and conditioner with me, and I use special shampoo and conditioner for delicate infants so I had to make sure I didn’t need to dump it at security.  I get there at 6, go to the counter, and he DROPPED ME OFF AT THE WRONG TERMINAL.  I was pissed.  I had to walk all the way down this huge corridor, up and down stairs, a moving sidewalk, to a SHUTTLE to take me to the next terminal.  To say that I was stressed would be an understatement.  I got to the terminal at 6:11, freaking out.  They let me cut the line to the counter, and the woman there told me I needed to “take a big breath in and out, you’ll going to make it.”  It was sweet.  I got to cut the security line too.  I love the French airports, other than my dipshit (pardon my French) who dropped me off in the wrong place.  They have someone personally assist you throughout security so there are no miscommunications, and they are surprisingly nice.  The one behind me was chatting up the kids and being adorable.  Once through security, I had 20 minutes before they announced the gate (that’s another cool part of the system) so I got myself a nice Evian and UK EDITION COSMO!!  I was so excited to have cosmo, it’s literally my favorite magazine.  The UK version isn’t as entertaining as the American one.  Oh well.  I also got crispy M&Ms.  It’s becoming a theme.

Fun fact: everyone wears fur jackets in France.  I was in love.  Most importantly: all the small children wear fur jackets and adorable little wayfarers.  It was the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.  I love babies and I love fur jackets and the combination was great.

I really had a lot of fun in Paris and it made me miss everyone so much more.  PICTURE TIME:

the ambiguous church courtyard fountain

Notre Dame

Louvre

some tower thing

still getting chocolate all over my face at age 21. Some things never change.

Click here for the Amsterdam and Bruges guide

This has been the week of chocolate.  It was the Chocolate Festival here in Florence this week, which was incredible. So. Much. Chocolate.  I would like to thank the Florentines for organizing this event in my honor.  I was in chocolate covered heaven.  And I couldn’t stop singing “Willy Wonka”.  For those of you who aren’t familiar with my love of chocolate: when I was little I had three chocolate-scented shirts.  One said “Save the Earth: it’s the only planet with chocolate”, one was tie-dye with chocolates all over it, and the other had a picture of a girl with chocolate all over her face and it said “where did all the chocolate go?”.  I was also banned from chocolate for a couple of years after ruining all of my clothes.  The Zaretsky’s would smuggle chocolate into my system by throwing me in a large t-shirt, feeding me my chocolatey elixir, and then bathing me.  One might say I had a problem.

Friday morning, Steph and I went to Amsterdam, which is one of my new favorite cities, and it was so unexpected.  Our first day was very strange, and I will explain it with a series of events that are confusing and random:

1. Tom was on our flight.  Oh you don’t remember Tom?  That’s because he was our waiter at a restaurant two weeks ago.  He made us delicious salads even though the kitchen was technically closed, and said he was going to the US in a couple of weeks until May.  So we said “aww sucks we’ll never see you again” and left.  And then he sat behind us on the flight.

2. When we arrived at the hotel, Roel made us casual pancakes.  It was bizarre.

3. We left and got random makeup essentials at a nearby store, and when we returned Roel knocked on our door and gave us “welcome champaigne and bar nuts”.  Thanks, Roel!

I'm sorry- what does this have to do with diamonds?

4. The Diamond museum mentioned 9/11 on its timeline of diamond-related events.  9/11 had no relation.  We are still confused.  Reminds me of when my dad mentioned metal detectors in my Bat Mitzvah toast.  They also had a diamond-bedazzled Starry Night, which I appreciate since I got none of that at the Van Gogh museum.

5. We took a nap and literally the second we woke up, Roel called us and asked if we had dinner yet.  When we said no, he asked if we wanted him to recommend places for us.

6. We went to the Van Gogh museum at 8:00 and there was a casual cocktail party with a DJ and soft jazz and wine and cheese. WHAT.  Two things that really impacted me from our Van Gogh experience: it’s so sad that we will never see the colors as he painted them because of time, dust, and chemical reactions.  Also, he lived in Nuenan and I think that that’s a very funny name.

7. We stumbled into a multi course dinner accidentally, and didn’t talk the entire meal.

And that’s basically my thoughts on our first day in a nutshell.  I also urged Steph to be creative with her I AMsterdam poses.  No one likes a cliche.

The next day Carly and Ally arrived!!! It was SOOO nice to see them (HEY ALLY).  We walked around the Flower Market, Rembrandt Square, Jewish Quarter, etc.  Rijks museum was good except kind of small and I wasn’t really into it.

The next day we got up early to go to BRUGES.  I love this city.  It is like it’s the Nutcracker all the time here.  We took a tour, and the bus driver on the way there spoke for almost 3 hours straight.  In both English and Spanish.  And he told the same terrible jokes in both languages.  Ugh.  I fell asleep on my sunglasses, and got a huge bruise/mark on my forehead.  I think I’m the first person to have received an injury of this nature.  I’m impossible.  We walked around the city eating the most amazing chocolate in the world, Belgian waffles, and scoping out the lace stores.  Yes, this is the city of chocolate and lace, yes it was essentially designed for my preferences.  I want to live in a brick house in the Belgian countryside. Mom, Dad, in case you didn’t get the hint I will be more explicit.  I would like a brick house in the Belgian countryside.

please contact Steph if you're in the .0005% of people who've seen "In Bruges"

When we returned to Amsterdam we ate dinner and hit up the Red Light District.  It was really depressing.  I guess I’ve always been sensitive to the plight of prostitutes, starting when I was 6 and had to be escorted from Les Mis to the lobby during “Lovely Ladies” while I sobbed hysterically.  It was like being at the zoo, there were all just standing behind glass panes while tourists gawked and judged.  It was sad. Also there was a family with young children perusing the streets.  Someones going to have a lot of questions to answer.  Also I could not be the only one who thought of Vandersexxx and Liz Lemon for the most part of i t.

The next day we woke up early, had lunch at the Pancake Bakery, and went to the Anne Frank house.

The Anne Frank House was a surreal experience.  But I want to start the AF section with some dark humor, because it’s about to get real deep and depressing here.  Freshman year we had a “High School Stereotypes” mixer, and I decided to go as Rachel Berry because I was in the middle of a really big Glee kick.  I picked out an argyle shirt, a high wasted skirt, did my hair like Rachel did, and was set.  I went to the movies, and they had this thing where you decorated paper stars for charity.  I thought “wow this is perfect! I’ll get one and color it yellow and gold so people will know I’m Rachel Berry because of how she always signs her name with a gold star”.  Good one, Alyssa.  EVERYONE will get that minor detail.  So I get it, and pin it to my shirt.  Yes, ladies and gentlemen.  I actually attended a mixer dressed as Anne Frank with what was essentially a yellow Jood star on my shirt.  Awkward.

Same Lea Michele. Totally different characters.

So now that we’ve got that out of our system, on to Anne Frank House.  Wow.  I just felt this weird, evil, ghostlike energy the entire time and it was a bit overwhelming- I had a lump in my throat and at parts was really on the verge of tears.  You just have to think about all the lives that were lost, and how strange it is that their line just ended with them right there in the concentration camps- no children or grandchildren to tell their stories to, no diaries left behind.  She was a remarkable girl- the tour was haunting and somber but yet you could feel Anne’s optimism and insight- but she was also unremarkable.  Her story was just one of 6,000,000 and we don’t know anything about the other 5,999,999.  What if her diary had been destroyed- she would have just faded into history, unacknowledged.  Just like what happened to the millions of others.  And that’s a terrifying thought.  Think of Margot and Peter- two secondary characters in her story who we barely know anything about even though they lived through it too.  

And then there was the quote I read on the wall from her diary: “One day this terrible war will be over. The time will come when we will be people again, and not just Jews! We can never be just Dutch, or just English, or whatever, we will always be Jews as well. But then, we’ll want to be.”  That really struck me as a universal truth.  She’s a very extreme example of course, but she represents someone who was persecuted for a trait that she just was, and even as a 13 year old she understood this and knew that eventually the persecution would stop and she would still want that trait.  So many people don’t like or want to change a trait about them just to blend in more with society, and yet here was a young girl who who actually in danger of being tortured and killed because of her Jewishness, and even she knew that it wasn’t something she wanted to give up.  Really makes you think.

After this philosophical and brooding experience we went to the “Heineken experience.”  They really are taking liberties by calling one part of it a “ride”, and it was pretty underwhelming.  But we learned how to properly drink beer, which I guess is good.

All in all, I’m obsessed with Amsterdam.  It’s so charming and yet has the dirty side to it and is completely full of tragic and inspiring history.

When we got home, Steph and I were joking with Nico and Steph jokingly asked him if he thinks we’re gaining weight.  He didn’t say no.  Awkward.

On a side note: today in wines we were describing the personality of the Riesling we were tasting, and the teacher described it as a child during the summer.  To me that was particularly meaningful because 95% of the Riesling I’ve ever consumed was consumed in Cornell in general, on wine tours in particular.  And so I always associate it with the carefree aura of wine tours during the days when Cornell is sunny and beautiful and we’re surrounded by friends and sunglasses and debauchery and no responsibilities.  Kind of like a child in summer.

While I’m discussing seasons and on a wild tangent, I was listening to my jamzz (read: musical recordings) and this one lyric “hers is the blush of early springtime, warm summer harvest waits right there” made me realize for the first time that my life in particular could be quantified in terms of seasons.  So I’ve been internally debating which month I am right now.  I’m feeling a solid May/June- but it’s unclear what is the threshold of summer (I almost worded this as “..unclear what the threshold of summer is” but I remembered Aunt Carole talking about how you should never end a sentence with a preposition, so I changed it).  And these are the wild roads of my stream of conscious.

And Happy Birthday Dayna.  Here are some pics of the week in review:

Bruges

If you don’t understand the title of this particular post, then you obviously haven’t lived.

There are some days when you are just ridiculously happy to be alive.  This was one of them.  After returning from Switzerland, still on a little Swiss high, we slept in our Florence apartments and woke up this morning to make a day trip to Venice for Carnival.

Oh. My.  God.

I cannot even explain in words how amazing it was.  Venice has always been my favorite city, and I’ve always been slightly obsessed with its culture, the masks, the opulence, all of it.  Experiencing Carnival brought this to a new level.  It was so real, so genuine, so amazing, so pure and unadulterated by time.

The anonymity of the masks created a weird atmosphere, where you kind of lost language barriers and forgot that you didn’t know everyone.  Literally everyone was taking pictures of everyone and everything as if we were in some twilight zone in between reality and a movie set.  Everything was fair game.  Since you couldn’t see differences and it felt like everyone was just playing a part, you didn’t feel different or like strangers.  It was very surreal and weird to write without sounding like a hippie freak.

We took a 12:25 train to Venice, and then a 40 minute water bus to San Marco square.  The whole time we were questioning if it would really be Carnival-like even though it was a Monday.  Everything just seemed so normal.  Until we got off at San Marco and it was like a scene from a movie.  Everyone was dressed up in elaborate Venetian garb and they would just stand or walk and pose as people took pictures of them.  I fit right in! It was like being in a living museum or one of those interactive exhibits.  You never know who’s the actor and who’s the spectator.

feed the birds, tuppence a bag

We fed pigeons, which is always a favorite activity of mine.  They just fly and walk all over you!  I loved it.  We befriended this family that had a little daughter who was feeding them bird seeds.  They kept putting the seeds on her head so the birds would land there, and it was so precious.  It started out kind of me and Steph feeding the birds with her, and then everyone started crowding around and taking pictures of her because it was just the cutest thing ever.  See, in the normal world it would be weird to take pictures of other people’s kids feeding pigeons.  In Carnivale world (and my creeper world) it is perfectly fine.

It was cold and our toes were numb, but it was so hard to care when the energy was so magical.  There was a parade at one point where everyone was wearing red and gold light up costumes, and then they all crowded in one area by San Marco Basilica and people surrounded them and took pictures (to the right).  It did not feel like real life, it was breathtaking.  I felt like I was at the front line of a red carpet, except it was just regular people, celebrating.

We ate donuts, and hot chocolate, and all types of candy and candied fruit from the square where they had live music, a wine fountain, and costume competitions and shows.  One of my favorite aspects, however, was taking pictures of people wearing masks and costumes and watching children take it all in.  It was like being in a fairy tale.  That sounds so creepy.

I will be returning to Carnival in Venezia at some point in my life.  It was too wonderful for this to be my only exposure to it.  It reaffirmed my love of the culture.  Here are some pics:

P.S. I was in Venice on what was essentially the one year anniversary of the opening of this show.  Don’t think I didn’t go around singing it.  It really helps to listen to the music and look at my pictures simultaneously, I think.

Click here for my travel guide

So we went on our first trip this weekend to Interlaken, Switzerland!  It was absolutely incredible.

We had dinner at I’Grullo with Nico and Livio(the chef who had never spoken to us before, but when we walked in immediately knew our order) on Thursday Night to have dinner before taking the bus to Interlaken.  The bus ride was 8 hours long, and pretty uneventful. I sat next to Steph and we watch hands down the WORST bus movies known to mankind.  American Beauty and Boys from the Hood (which we never even got to finish).  I thought that it was an established rule that only comedies are to be played on buses.  The bathroom was pretty gross.  We had to walk down steps to get to it, and the water level was uncomfortably high.  We stopped at a rest stop on the way, which was equally gross, and I got crispy m&ms (I miss you and your delicious crisped rice center).

We got to the hostel at around 3am, and I was very pleasantly surprised with it.  Steph, Amy, and I shared a room with 4 other girls from Florence who were great, and I had my silk sleep sack (thanks Tobey and Amanda McBroom!) and the pillows were ridiculously comfy so things were good.  My silk sleep sack looks exactly like what Mr. G wears in his classroom when he performs for his students and goes in that pink sack thing.

hey whatsup! i'm naturally this gorgeous.

We woke up at around 8 the next day and walked around town and to the lake.  It was freezing, but Interlaken is gorgeous.  Drop dead gorgeous.  The water is crystalline and the prettiest shade of aquamarine, and the houses and trees and mountains are just unreal.  I felt like I was on a postcard.  We took in the sights, and had lunch at the local Hooters because we were craving normal, American food and were starving.  It was my first Hooters experience, and pretty uneventful; but if Michael Scott likes it then I guess I do, too.  We then went to the rental shop to get our gear for skiing and NIGHT SLEDDING. The first ski pants I tried on fit, but were ridiculously short and I was essentially wearing coolats (sp?).  It was awkward.  The jacket I got was a berry beaut, and looked like what a 10 year old boy would wear in 1989.  Perfect.

Night sledding was so much fun! We took a bus ride to the mountains where we got our plastic sleds and took an 8 person gondola ride to the top of a mountain.  We had lights to put on our backs so the people behind us could see us, and it was FREEZING.  Absolutely freezing.  We were pretty much on our own- had to use our feet to steer, stop, and prevent yourself from falling off of a cliff in the pitch black dark.  I made it!  I had one injury, when I saw people getting up to walk their sleds (you had to do this in areas where the terrain was too flat), I went to get up too, but my momentum made me get up and crash into my sled.  I have bruises on the inside of both of my knees/thighs from that fall and from the entire sledding experience.  It was great though, you went pretty fast down on what can be best described as a narrow, winding ski slope. At the bottom we had a fondue dinner.  By the time we ate, it was 9:30 and I wolfed down the meal without even paying attention.  We had a salad, then some ambiguous chicken/beef/mushroom and potato mix, and then cheese fondue with bread.  I was a starving child.  By the time we got home it was 12ish and we were exhausted so we went straight to bed.

Amy and Lyssie do the Alps

The next day we woke up at 7:30 for SKIING.  It was such a shlep.  We walked 5 minutes to the rental place, then to the bus stop, then took a train (with a transfer!), then arrived in Wengen (for all intents and purposes I am going to refer to this town from now on as Whoville) where we had to take another gondala ride up to the top of the mountain.  IT WAS GORGEOUS AND UNREAL.  I have been skiing since I was very little, but the last time I went was New Years Eve, Freshman year of high school at the Soll’s country house with the Zaretskys.  That’s a long time ago, but I was surprisingly able to pick it up very quickly and was parallel skiing on my first run down.  The system here is different, and we did all blues with 1 red part.  I apologize to Uncle Cliff, my dad, and my mom for being such a pain all those years of skiing and being a brat and crying over getting private instructors as opposed to ski school.  I realized that I really miss skiing and want to start going again.  It felt like I never stopped.  AND I SKIIED THE ALPS.  We started above the clouds, and when we skiied into the cloud because it was so sunny, it looked like someone was dropping glitter from the sky and we were in a snowglobe.  Un.  Real.  I’m convinced this is what heaven looks like.  Amy had a bit of a hard time at first because her boots weren’t closed and so it was hard for her to get her bearings when we were all readjusting and so I guess we could describe this experience as Amy tumbling down the Alps.

Amy walking her skis down the slope after a particularly brutal tumble

meanwhile, back in the "Relaxation Room"...

Yes, Dayna and Steph stayed back and went to the spa.  We had a really good skiing group.  It was me, Amay, Marissa, Kerri, and Rachel and Allie who I met there.  We had SO MUCH FUN.  All of us had skiied when we were younger but had taken a break, so were basically on the same page ability wise and it was just the most amazing experience I’ve had and I couldn’t believe I was there.  I didn’t fall once.  Lies.  I fell once.  When we were done for the day and walking with our skis off to get onto the gondola, I slipped on the ice and fell on the concrete.  It was the type of fall in which my feet flew in the air and I wiped out.  I would be the person to ski the Alps without falling, and just wipe out on my own accord.

That night we went to an Irish pub next to Balmer’s (the other hostel) for dinner and then went to Metro, the club in the hostel.  It was really a lot of fun, even though we were all dead from the day.

The last day we woke up, and switched our pillows with the hostel ones since they were better, then checked out.  We got into trouble for switching the pillows and were accosted at breakfast by the reception man who screamed at us.  It was rull awkward.  We then went to get chocolate at Schuh, take in the views from the terrace of the highest restaurant in Interlaken, and then went ice skating.  The ice skating was fantastic, I was really whipping out the moves I learned from Saturdays at Long Beach Ice Arena.  Thank you, Karen.

All in all: I know this was the first weekend we travelled, but it definitely set the bar extremely high and I want to go back so badly.  I was just in complete awe of the natural beauty of the area, and we definitely did more activities than we will on any other trip, but they were each so much fun.  And it was also a really great group of people.  I miss it already. Here’s some pics:

look at the cloud line!!!!

So we’ve moved! Our new apartment is amazing.  It’s two blocks north of the Duomo, and one block south of Academia.  Yea, I’m obsessed with the David so this is going to be absolutely wonderful.  Classes started last week.  I’m taking Italian, Wine Appreciation, History of the Italian Renaissance, Second World War in Italy and it’s Aftermath, and Jewish-Italian Cooking.  All of my classes are great.  Except for the fact that wine appreciation is at 9am.  Whoever decided that this was a good idea really should be locked away somewhere.  Also some of my classes are 100% girls, and the others are like 97-99%.  It’s really bizarre.  Now I understand what Zimmy went through all those years at Spence.

the most casual of casual-ware

So our apartment is great, but the heat hasn’t really kicked in yet.  The first night it was 10 degrees celsius.  Like according to the thermostat, that was the actual termperature.  Yesterday it was 13. 2 degrees.  That’s freezing.  I’ve been wearing a million layers and my ear warmers to stay warm in here.  Steph and I had to even share a twin sized bed because it was just too cold to sleep separately.  That bad.  But we do have a towel warmer above the bidet in our bathroom, so I discovered a great use for the bidet.  I stand or sit on it while leaning against the towel warmer and wrapping the warm towels around me.  It’s heaven.  I’ve literally never been happier than when I’m engulfed in warm towels.

We decided to not go away this weekend, and to instead stay in Florence and explore.  I took a picture of Oltrarno during sunset and it seemed very familiar to me.  When I got home, I realized it was the exact same picture as my favorite picture from Florence 2010!!  How weird is that?

Winter 2012

Summer 2010

It’s so pretty here.  We walked around all day, just taking (some) pictures and getting familiarized with all of the nooks and crannies.  We went to Rivoire which is on the Piazza de Signoria and got hot chocolate.  It was literally just melted chocolate, so rich and delicious.  The sky at night was so ridiculously blue that it looked fake.

tis the season to be jolly, nom nom nom nom nom, nom nom nom nom

We found our favorite restaurant.  It’s on the street perpendicular to us and called I’Grullo, which apparently means “crazy in a good way”, which I think is pretty fitting.  The waiter, Nico, is our new best friend.  He’s from Romania and whenever he sees us on the street he invites us in for (free) wine and tells us places we should go.  He also looks like Mr. Williams, my high school music teacher and makes almost identical facial expressions which is bizarre because Mr. Williams is pretty unique.  We also have matching chin scars.  Nico and I, that is.  There’s also a gluten free restaurant on the corner of the street perpendicular to us right on the Duomo Piazza!!!! YESSSS.  I got penne with bacon, leeks, mozzarella, and an alla vodka sauce and it was amazeballs. We went to the Diner today with Caralyn and Juliette! Such a long wait- like 1 hour- but it was so worth it.  I got a hamburger and a chocolate milkshake and that made me very happy.

Update on going out: still so much fun.  It’s going to be hard to come back to NY and Ithaca after these months.  Well, it would be hard to anyway, but going out here is just so much better.  Except tonight we went out and some guy was wearing a KD semi-formal t-shirt.  Why would one where a sorority semi-formal t-shirt to go out in a foreign country?  I wanted to make a citizen’s arrest.

And now for some still photos of life here!!!

Ponte Vecchio at sunset

Palazzo Vecchio

near Santa Croce

P.S. Wuv you Randy-Roo!  Can’t wait to see you in Paris!!!!