Roman Holiday

So, my friend Jess and I decided to go on a vacation in Italy.  Actually, just Rome.  We’re not the kind of people who have everything scheduled out and do lots-of-tours.  That just ain’t our style.  So doing Rome in three days and then on to Florence, Venice and….  that’s just not how we’re built.  I like to take it easy on vacation.  I don’t like to get up early and go, go go.  Biggie don’t roll that way.  I like to wake up when I wake up, eat a leisurely breakfast while pondering what the day’s adventure might be and then head out.  Now one of the things that could affect the mood for the day is simply this, after I have showered and I begin to get dressed, how do my clothes fit?

There seems to be something a little “off” with how my mind works.  You see, if I eat a breakfast of just oatmeal and fresh fruits then I expect that when I go to get dressed, the jeans that had been a little snug previously should be downright baggy after such a light and healthly breakfast.  Forget the fact that the night before I had an enormous bowl of pasta with cheese and that I wrapped up the evening with two scoops of pistachio gelato in a waffle cone dipped in chocolate and rolled in nuts…  I mean, I slept all of that off, right???? So by morning I should be downright svelte! So, when I go for those jeans, that any normal human being would know are not only going to still be tight they will probably be a little tighter still, I am horrified when I try to pull them on and I realize that THE LAUNDRY CLEARLY SCREWED THESE JEANS UP! I mean I could’ve had eggs with cheese, some PORK SAUSAGE, some pancakes with real butter and a cup of maple syrup, but NO, I only ate a little oatmeal and some fresh fruit. FRUIT for Pete’s sake, how can these jeans be this tight?  Oh, but I am going to wear these jeans. Not the baggy, stretched out, totally comfy jeans I wore yesterday, or my favorite baggy khakis. NO, I AM GOING TO WEAR THESE RIDICULOUSLY TIGHT JEANS THAT WILL MAKE ME UNCOMFORTABLE FOR THE ENTIRE DAY.

I’m a big girl and I’m fairly strong.  I have strong hands and a good grip and it takes absolutely everything I’ve got to pull these jeans up.  I turn the air down cooler because I have started sweating.  I’m still pulling.  The skin below my fingernails is rubbed raw and about to blister because I have been pulling so hard for so long that the denim is rubbing my skin off.  I’m breathing hard.  I think I may have just drooled a bit.  It’s okay, I’m almost there.  Okay, it’s all good. I’ve got the jeans up my thighs now.  Now all I have to do is get my ass in them and then, button and zip them.

I am so unbelievably uncomfortable at this point I can’t believe I am going to head outside and walk around. I’ll have to do some walking though, there’s absolutely no possible way that I could sit.  And if I did sit, I might be endangering some innocent people.  I mean I think the act of sitting in these jeans, when my gut puts pressure against that poor metal button, that sucker just might jet propel out of there at speeds of up to 100 MPH, possibly putting out someone’s eye!  I am confident that when I return home later in the evening that the word Levi’s will be permanently imprinted on my belly.  The big bell.  Biggie’s Big Bell.

So we head to the subway to catch a train to Vatican City.  We’re going to the Vatican Museums.  I am so very excited.  I see unbelivable works of art by so many masters.  Raphael, Caravaggio, Michelangelo, how long have we been walking?  Are your feet hurting?  Mine sure are. I am going to see the Sistine Chapel.  A dream of so long is about to come true.  These marble statues are gorgeous, my feet are really hurting, oh look some more marble starirs to climb. I cannot wait to see the Sistine Chapel, I mean this is what I am really here for, and I’m starting to get really hungry too.  Are you hungry? OMG.  The Sistine Chapel.  It is beautiful.  The colors, the detail, the passion it’s absolutely incredible, okay, that was awesome, is there a shortcut to get out of here…

I want to SIT DOWN. I want to eat and drink, but i really want to SIT DOWN. We find a lovely cafe with outdoor seating, in the beautiful sunshine, a few hundred yards from the Vatican, with some incredible people watching.  And they serve my absolutely favorite Roman specialty, fried zucchini flowers. BUONISSIMO! I enjoy a Diet Coke, some bottled water, the unbelievably fabulous fried zucchini flowers, some far-out people watching, and some incredible pasta.  It’s all good.  I’m starting to feel a little uncomfortable though as I realize the button on these jeans is probably just an inch or two from my spine. The jeans had stretched some during the Vatican Museum walk, but after all the zucchini flowers, bread, pasta, water, Diet Coke and more bread and more water…  Holy Cow I am miserable. What I wouldn’t give to be in a pair of sweats or even some baggy shorts, but NO, I am in Rome.  The fashion mecca.  These people don’t even know what sweats are.  Well, they know what sweats are when training for an athletic event, but if they saw a pair of sweats outside of a gym, they would truly be puzzled.  Possibly even horrified.  And shorts? That’s something for the beach or when running.  These are not anything that should ever be worn at any other time, EVER.  But I’m Biggie from Texas. Whatever.

Roman women dress.  These women only know one way to go and that is ALL OUT.  Head to toe in Prada.  Head to toe in Prada riding a scooter on the way to work.  Incredible.  Roman men dress.  These men go all the way.  Gorgeous suits and incredible ties.  DONE, DONE, DONE.  Beautiful people in beautiful clothing.  Fabulous fashions everywhere you look.  Now the younger folk, they are pushing the envelope.  And I don’t think I meant that in a good way.  I mean the attitude is much the same as here. “I am a young, super skinny, gorgeous human being with tight abs, a tight ass, my boobs are exactly where they are supposed to be, I am completely invincable and I WILL LIVE FORVER.  And you are old and FAT.” The fashions may differ a bit but the ‘tude is all the same.  These Italian kids wear these ridiculously tight, possibly spray on, stretch jeans.  Their legs, all of them, they all had the same legs and they were the same diameter, possibly smaller, than my upper arms.  Disgusting.

So, what did I enjoy most about Rome?  Really?  Are you really going to ask me that?  Oh for Pete’s sake.  I’M BIGGIE!  I LOVED THE FOOD.  OMG!  FOOD, FOOD, FOOD, FOOD…. Rome, for me anyway, was very much about the food.  Now that probably surprised the pants right off of you didn’t it?  Well, there might have been more to it than just the food.  It was looking out my hotel room window to see the Baths of Diocletian, RIGHT THERE.  It was standing in front of the Trevi Fountain throwing in coins and enjoying some incredible people watching and some incredible pistachio gelato in the waffle cone dipped in chocolate and rolled in nuts.  Standing in the Colosseum and marveling at the architecture.  Sitting on the Spanish Steps and just watching, listening, enjoying the colors everywhere changing as the sun went down.  Sitting at a sidewalk cafe table in the Piazza Navona watching the artists sell their work, watching a couple of priests sitting on a bench enjoying their ice cream and conversation, listening to a couple of kids from who-knows-where playing FREEBIRD.  Rome was an incredible place to spend a week.  I hope you all have the opportunity to visit there some day if you haven’t had the pleasure already.    peace