Three C’s: Carnivale, Corpo, and Cane

(This is me and my friend Henry. It's the best picture I have of my mask for Carnivale)

Carnivale
Carnivale e finito…and so now begins the somber period of Lent. I somehow got peer-pressured into going back to Venice last night until very late. (“Allison, you will only be able to experience one Carnivale your whole life…”) Three of my friends some how managed to stay until 6 in the morning for the second time this week. I made it back this morning around 2am…plenty late for me. (Can we just note how old and lame I am getting? I used to be a fun person I swear.) All in all, I had a good time during my trips to Venice. On Saturday I met up with Joey and his roommate from Perugia in the Piazza del San Marco. I helped them purchase masks (Joey’s is actually my favorite because it has bells) Then we had Bellini’s (in your honor Courtney) and then they ended up coming back with us to Padova for dinner and drinks because Venice is crazy expensive. Then last night I headed back in my mask, bottle of Bellini in hand, with some friends. Everyone was in costume and there were dance parties and djs in the street. It was mostly 80’s and 90’s American music which was humorous. I’ve decided that I don’t like Venice though. It’s very dirty and there is graffiti everywhere and lots of trash. The streets are poorly maintained and its like walking through a series of deserted and trashy alleyways. It has its charms. The piazza del San Marco is beautiful, and I think the views from the bridges can be picturesque. However, I could never imagine living there. It was certainly not the most fun I’ve had, but definitely an event worth checking out. The train ride back did not have enough seats. We were literally crammed (at 2am) beside one another. I had to stand next to the most disgusting couple. You know how some people look like their dog? Well, apparently some couples look like each other. Both were dressed in identical leather attire and enough piercings to set off security alarms. Both had greasy, frizzy, dirty blonde hair down to their waists. This girl and her hair were smashed right against me and for the entire 30 minutes train ride she and her boyfriend proceeded to make out. It was so loud and all you could hear were the slurping noises. Then sometimes when it got really intense they would push against me and my friend. I could not have been more annoyed. Especially since everywhere I go couples are making out. I hate to buy into the stereotype of how romantic Europe is, but its true. On the trains, in stores, at the market… I watch people on the street carry on a conversation and then out of nowhere stop to passionately kiss as they walk. From old people at the café beside me, couples on bicycles (pretty impressive multi-tasking) to 14-year-olds pressed against the side of our university, I swear everyone engages in public affection. This begs me to ask: where is my hot Italian amante (lover) (with a Vespa – cause that’s my new criteria)?? And, until I have someone who wants to kiss me passionately in the streets I think everyone else should get a room.

Corpo (body) ... sorry I'm about to rant again...
If I have to sit down to another meal and hear a practically anorexic girl whine about how she’s going to gain so much weight abroad I’m going to scream. “Oh my god, I’m like so full” (says the girl who ate an apple for lunch). I find it hard to believe that Americans, coming from the country with an obesity problem, are going to come to Europe and gain a ton of weight. Every Italian woman I’ve seen with the exception of some old nonnas have been easily half my size… and I know I’m not fat. I don’t know what these girls eat normally that an apple constitutes such a large meal by comparison but I wish they would shut up. It ruins my meal, and I fully intend to enjoy my meals here. Granted, some of these girls do go to the gelateria quite frequently, but the consequences of that are similarly experienced by the freshmen at Hamilton who find themselves with a daily addiction to the ice cream station.

Cane (dog)
I don’t think I mentioned this before but I have a dog. Well, at least my family here has a dog. His name is Otto; named after all of the famous German generals. He is a wiener dog. What is humorous is that my kids describe him with such fierce and ferocious language to me “Otto e un lione!” (Otto is like a lion)… yeah right. Anyway, the dog loves me. And by love I mean wont stop humping my leg. The father tells me that if I want to make him happy I will take the dog back with me to America this summer. The mom says she will tie a huge bow to him. So HH do you think Mattie wants a playmate?

Ps. I figured out spring break…finally. Prague and Budapest here I come!